


Le Quattro Stagioni

by 263Adder



Series: Then and Now [6]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (Comics), The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Childhood, Classic TUA Villain, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Four Seasons, Gen, Hotel Oblivion Reference, Multiple Timelines, Post-Season/Series 01, Pre-Series, Season/Series 01, Time Travel, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-22
Updated: 2019-10-18
Packaged: 2020-07-11 13:56:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 23,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19929175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/263Adder/pseuds/263Adder
Summary: One of Five's most treasured memories from his original childhood in the Umbrella Academy was escaping the Hargreeves mansion for the day and spending an afternoon out in the city with Number Seven. Now they're back, and he's been planning their second escape for a very long time.Le Quattro Stagioni: The Four Seasons.





	1. Winter 2001

Dad was putting them through the ringer that day, much to their displeasure, as retribution for their slow response to an emergency call yesterday. Training had so far overrun by an additional forty minutes, all the while a tempting blanket of unmarred snow continued to coat the courtyard just waiting to be played in. The six of them took turns glancing at it wistfully, knowing that Dad would never understand their urge to destroy the blanket of white. Five doubted Dad had ever thrown a snowball in his life, even if he had at one time been a kid (which he also found hard to imagine).

Hopefully the snow would continue to fall until Christmas, only a few days away now.

For the holiday, the Academy were put on the same schedule they had for their birthdays – a slightly later than usual morning alarm, a light training schedule, extended recreation hours and a ‘special’ dinner. He knew that most of his siblings mainly anticipated the dinner, the closest they got to a gift, as Grace always made their favourite foods – except for unlucky Number Seven who was time and time again stuck with the much loathed fish pie – but Five was most looking forward to the extra recreation time they were due.

Cold winter days were perfect for settling down inside with a stack of books (a far more preferable activity to partaking in his brothers’ typical snowball fights, which he could undoubtedly win with his eyes shut) but he was also looking forward to getting out in the snow and dragging Seven outside with him.

He had never noticed until the other month how few opportunities she had to leave the house. Unless Dad took her along to observe their missions, an unfortunate rarity nowadays since the Academy were increasingly sent out of the city, she mainly stayed at home.

Pogo could never take her anywhere looking as he did and Reginald had confined Grace to the property, never able to wander far from her charging station and someone capable of repairing her lest she suffer damage. Although the courtyard was often available to Seven, he only ever saw her sit outside when someone else accompanied her.

He figured it couldn’t be healthy so, after his siblings were done throwing snow at each other, Five was determined to drag her outside to play for a while. He felt for sure if he remained indoors half as much as Seven did he would atrophy from inactivity; getting out would be good for her.

In the brief moment that Five took to look out of the window, Two tried to take advantage and sneak up on him. He easily ducked Two’s leg as his brother attempted to kick him, jumping behind him to slide an arm around his torso and slingshot him backward into the wall. With a loud oomph, he went down.

Five grinned at him, readying himself to jump again as Two prepared to barrel charge at him, when, suddenly, there was a thunderous crash which sounded like the shattering of glass.

It took Five half a second to realise it hadn’t originated from the training room, but from the floor above them.

“What the h-hell was t-that?” Two asked, straightening up.

A faint scream followed, making Five’s hairs stand on end as he immediately recognised who it belonged to.

“Seven.” He breathed, jumping to the upstairs landing. Dad would undoubtedly want to coordinate his siblings downstairs, checking the cameras to establish what the threat was and how best to attack, but Five wasn’t planning to stand around waiting for One and Two to argue over who would take the lead while Seven was in danger.

“Five! Six!” She called, her panicked voice coming from one of the bedrooms. “Let _go_ of me. _Help_!”

Any sliver of hope that she had merely had an accident flew out the window, and Five grimly accepted that the house was under attack.

He jumped again to Seven’s room but found it empty, her window smashed open.

Slipping out of the door, his head quickly turned towards his own room as he heard the distinct scuffle of shoes. It took every ounce of willpower to conserve his energy by not jumping again, and moving slower than he would have liked along the corridor – so as to not alert whoever had been stupid enough to break into the house that the Umbrella Academy were coming after them.

He could only hope that there was only one man in there, and that his siblings would hurry.

Shouldering his way into the room, poised to jump the assailant, Five was surprised to see the recently incarcerated Dr. Terminal attempting to stifle Seven’s cries with a cloth she struggled to escape from.

“What the hell?” He muttered, looking at the villain.

Somehow Dr. Terminal had regained his suit, which Five looked at warily. In their debrief of Dr. Terminal – delivered the first time the Academy had gone up against him – Dad had explained how doctors had diagnosed Terminal with a aggressive condition called Einstein Syndrome, a disease which gradually devours the infected body from its nervous system to the brain.

A talented inventor, credit Five had to begrudgingly give him (apparently he really had received a doctorate), Dr. Terminal had created a suit which took external energy and converted it into matter to feed his disease – in effect, stopping it from attacking his own body. He could do so by eating organic and inorganic material, however Dr. Terminal often turned to other humans as his fuel source.

Even someone with a sub-standard intelligence, like most his siblings, could guess what Dr. Terminal was intending to do to Seven.

“Pleasure to see you again, Number Five.” Terminal greeted, looking in no way genuinely happy to be in his presence once more. “I thought I’d drop by for an afternoon snack. Care to join us? I’m sure I’ll be able to find enough room for you _both_.”

He held Seven closer to him, inciting a yelp of pain as his fingers dug deeply into her skin, and pressed the cloth into her mouth.

“Let her go.” Five demanded. “She’s not a part of this.”

Seven, to Five’s upmost pride, took both men by surprise by clamping her teeth onto the finger nearest her lips, which caused Dr. Terminal to drop the rag with a curse although he still kept a hold of her before she could flee.

“Five, he’s not alone.” She moaned, fixing her bleary eyes on something behind him.

Five barely had time to wonder if Dr. Terminal had drugged her, before he felt a pair of hands land on his shoulder and toss him backwards into the wardrobe which crunched beneath him.

“Throwing me in jail wasn’t so smart, Number Five.” Dr. Terminal gloated, nodding towards his accomplice who towered over Five. “The prison lost ten guards today, _I_ on the other hand came away with a _new friend_.”

The accomplice, who was enhanced like Dr. Terminal, seemed to grow taller by the minute, until his head nearly brushed the ceiling as he sneered over Five’s body.

“Terminal!” Five heard Number One shout, bursting into the room. Literally bursting, the door flying from the hinges with a bang. After this maniac was back behind bars – or in a more ideal scenario, dead – Five would have to raise the size of their rooms to their Father. With One and Two squeezed in, there was barely enough space for Six to follow and there wouldn’t be room for him to release the eldritch without hurting someone on their side.

Dr. Terminal’s collaborator, taken aback by the arrival of three more Academy members, turned his back on Five and flew at the others. His body seemed to adapt wildly to his will, elongating and thinning to become a rope with which to tangle up his brothers.

Five’s eyes returned to Seven, who had tried to inch towards the door however Dr. Terminal had noticed her attempt at escape and quickly snatched her back. Five pushed himself up from the floor and quickly assessed where it would be best to next jump.

“You’ll keep me fed for quite some time, from what I’ve heard.” Dr. Terminal crooned as he grabbed at her waist and made to pull her towards the window.

Settling for his back, well aware that Father’s last debrief about Dr. Terminal had advised they avoid physical contact because of his absorption powers, Five opened a portal and pounced down on Dr. Terminal in a move similar to the one his partner in crime had just made against him.

As he reappeared in a flash of blue he vaguely heard a cry from across the room, he thought from Two, but Five stayed focused on Dr. Terminal. While his suit gave him extra abilities, physically he was no match for them. Five fixed his gaze on the wires attached to his helmet, and as he crashed onto Dr. Terminal’s back he thrust his hand into them and pulled hard.

A hissing sound announced a plume of white gas which leaked from Dr. Terminal’s suit, which his hands rose to clamp down on. He tore off his helmet to reveal crazed eyes, sweat matted hair and a grimace of fury directed at Five.

“ _You stupid kids_!”

Five braced himself as Dr. Terminal lunged at him but a loud smash seemed to stop him in his tracks. As he crumpled to the floor Five was faced with Seven, who had evidently just smashed his lamp over her would be kidnapper’s head.

“God job, Ven.” He said approvingly.

She nodded weakly and slumped onto his bed beside the broken window, eyes blown wide.

His first instinct was to pull her from the room, but the other’s were still struggling. Two laid unconscious in the corner, with Six checking his head for any bleeds. As for Number One he was wrestling to extricate himself from the other man’s hold, however, even with his advanced strength which enabled him to tug viciously on his captors body, the man stretched and contracted at ease, making it impossible for One to get free.

“Where the fuck is Three?” Five yelled to the room.

“Securing the perimeter with Four.” Six groaned, joining Five’s side now he was confident Two’s injuries weren’t critical. “I can’t unleash the eldritch – not with Number One so close to him.”

“I don’t know this guy.” Five said.

“We fought him before. He’s called Elastomer. You were benched with a broken rib at the time.” Six hastily explained.

“How did you defeat him then?”

“Three rumoured him to stop.”

“Shit. Go get her, I’ll help One keep him occupied.”

Six sprinted from the room.

“He’s like rubber.” Five heard Seven mumble, even over the increasingly frustrated shouts of Number One.

He didn’t hear the second thing she muttered, too busy jumping into the fray: “Rubber is weakened by cold temperatures. They can also only withstand a certain amount of elongation before they snap. Mom taught us that.”

Five latched onto Elastomer’s ankles and started to pull in the opposite direction as One. Elastomer groaned as his abilities were pushed to their limits, but he managed to stretch further without breaking his hold on One. His arms elongated further, wrapping themselves around One’s neck to try to choke him out of the fight.

Realising attempting to pull Elastomer off One wouldn’t work in time, Five jumped back to Two to snatch some of his knives. Willing Seven to close her eyes, he jumped back to One’s side and plunged the blade into Elastomer’s jugular, grimacing as a spray of blood coated their faces.

One focused on drawing in air while Five kept a careful watch of Dr. Terminal’s accomplice as he took his last breath.

Six and Three came bounding into the room, typically too late to do anything of use to him.

“Is he dead?” Three asked.

“Yeah.”

She went over to One who was gasping raggedly while breathing. “I think you need to go to Mom.”

“Gotta get Two.” One rasped back, walking slightly unsteadily over to his brother.

“Mom can move him.” Three argued, doubting his strength to do so.

“Three’s right, Number One.” Six said, backing Three up for which she threw him a grateful glance. “Go downstairs and tell Mom he needs help. She can set the infirmary up for everyone.”

“Go on.” Three instructed, pushing One ahead before bending to loop an arm under Two’s. “Six, get the other side?”

“Right.”

Together they could lift Two upright, his feet dragging on the floor as they hefted him from the room.

Five watched them go before turning to check on Seven, jumping back a step as he realised she had already wordlessly moved to his side, taking him by surprise.

She offered him a towel, taken from the end of his bed, “For your face,” Seven explained.

“Thanks.” He said, taking the proffered item before trying to shepherd her back to his bed. “You should sit though, you don’t look too good.”

“Thanks.” Seven replied wryly, sinking back to the bed.

“No, you look...” Five sighed, “...I just thought you might be in shock.”

“I’m sure I’ll survive.”

As Five threw the bloodied towel onto his desk and dropped his shrugged off jacket beside the door, it seemed to finally occur to him they were in _his_ bedroom.

“Why didn’t you run for the stairs?” Five asked with a flair of annoyance, as he surveyed the destruction wrought to his room. Not only was his wardrobe broken from where he had been thrown, there was a chunk missing out the leg of his bed and One had crushed his desk while fighting with Elastomer. What a mess.

He didn’t notice that Seven seemed to think his abrupt anger was directed at her, instead thinking she had shrunk back because of delayed shock.

“The other man, he, he was standing in the hallway.”

“Next time run for the bathroom; unlike my room it has a lock on the door.” Five suggested. Not that he really thought a basic lock would keep out Dr. Terminal, but it would have bought her some time until the Academy arrived.

“I’m sorry.” Seven said, sounding tearful.

“Hey,” he attempted to reassure, a new stab of panic attacking him as he turned back to her and watched her eyes grow glassy, “it’s not your fault they attacked you. We should probably apologise to you – it’s because of us that Dr. Terminal attacked the house.”

“Sorry.” She apologised again, swiping at her nose with her sleeve.

Five patted his pockets uselessly; he had no tissues on him. He should probably start carrying a handkerchief with him for situations like this. He could jump to the bathroom for one, but it didn’t seem right to leave her. She’d clearly been drugged, probably with chloroform given the cloth Dr. Terminal was trying to press to her face, and he still expected her to go into shock (as the people they rescued on missions invariably did) at any moment.

Instead, after wiping away her tears she looked up at him calmly – without gasps for breath or cries for loved ones.

“Why my room?”

She shrugged.

“Okay.” He said, easily letting a question go unanswered for once.

“Seven?” Six called, reappearing in Five’s room sounding short of breath.

“Have the police arrived yet?” Five asked, watching as Six quickly crossed the room and enveloped Seven in a hug which she gratefully sank into.

So _that’s_ what he should have done, he thought as he observed the interaction between the two.

“Yeah, Dad and One are handling it – One refused to lay down and Dad obviously didn’t tell him to go look after himself. And Mom will come up in a second to check on everyone once she finishes taking care of Two in the infirmary. You okay Seven?”

“I think Dr. Terminal tried to chloroform her.” Five responded, contradicting Seven’s nod.

“Are you feeling dizzy?” Six questioned her. When he received another nod, he started ushering Seven in Five’s direction. “I’ll go get you a glass of water. Five will stay with you.”

 _Hug her_ , Six mouthed as he pressed Seven firmly into his chest. Obediently, Five’s arms rose to keep a tight hold of her.

“Be right back.” Six promised.

Five felt like his arms were made of inflexible lead, yet Seven seemed to have no complaints and accepted his hug as readily as she had Six’s so he figured he had to be doing it right.

“We’ll have to get your window fixed soon. It’s already a cold day, tonight will be even worse. You don’t want to get snow in your room.” Five said, mostly talking to himself. “It might be too late to get it repaired, but I saw some clapboard near the greenhouse so we can cover it for the night. And if it’s still too cold you can sleep in my...”

He glanced over Seven’s head at the wreck that was his room.

“Oh. Well we _both_ might need to find somewhere new to sleep tonight.”

Seven chuckled softly. “I can’t see Dad agreeing to that.”

“You’re right.” Five agreed with a sigh. “I guess once I sort your window I’d better clear up this mess.”

“I’ll help you.” Seven promised.

“No, Mom will want to take you to the infirmary.” He protested, thoughtlessly pulling her closer. “To make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m fine, Five.”

“You’re still going. To be sure.”

He couldn’t see Seven’s smile against his shoulder but he felt it there. “Okay,” she agreed softly, “I’ll go. But once Mom says I’m fine I’ll come to help you.”

“All right.” Five agreed, now that the conditions of their agreement were more acceptable to him.

He kept a hold of Seven – because Six had told him to, Five internally reasoned – until Mom appeared in the room, sanguine as ever despite the attack on their home.

The Academy had never been directly attacked before and Five could tell everyone was shaken up by it; even Dad seemed ruffled that his security systems had been so easily overridden. It left Mom as the sole occupant who remained unfazed by the afternoon’s event: efficiently wrapping Number Two’s head with cloth bandages; calmly checking Seven over for any serious injury while Five waited impatiently by her shoulder for a prognosis; gently taking Number One’s arm and guiding him to a couch while he waited to give their Father his report, and; collecting her cleaning supplies to sweep up the dust and broken furniture in both her children’s rooms. Five almost admired her for her ability to remain so composed, before reminding himself that as an artificial being it was unlikely she would ever be anything but.

Mom excused herself after she had handed Seven another dosage of her medicine. She also told her to go to the infirmary for a blood test, where Mom would meet her after she checked on Number Two again.

Six took over for the family in watching over Seven once Mom left – insisting that she drink the water he had fetched as Mom said she should stay hydrated to flush out the drug. Five took that as his cue to go, assuring the pair he would catch up with them later once he had delivered his own report to Dad. After all, he was the first on the scene and the only one Dr. Terminal had spoken with.

“Number Five.” Reginald said by way of greeting, when Five made it to his office.

Number One was still with him, seated on the couch with a band of bruises around his neck so black Five almost winced in sympathy.

“Are the police taking Dr. Terminal back to jail?”

“After speaking with the authorities, we have decided it would be best to move him to a more secure facility located out of the state.” Reginald responded, weighing his words with care. “They have asked me to travel to this facility and oversee some modifications they will make to the structure to ensure Dr. Terminal is correctly housed and unable to escape once more.”

“Okay.” Five said, already itching to go. He hated standing in Dad’s office. Of all the over-decorated, cold, impersonal rooms of the house, Reginald’s office was the worst. It was more akin to a Headmaster’s office, where you are sent after committing an infraction and will receive due punishment, then somewhere their supposed Father conducted business. The mission pictures of the Academy, which perhaps should have made the space seem more personal, only seemed to bare down on him. They weren’t family pictures – for a start Seven was absent from them. They were all posed and fake.

While he had lied to Seven when he said their first mission was a drag (exhilarating really, to finally put years of training to use), the thrill had quickly waned as the outside world started to claw at them for an image that wasn’t real.

No, it wasn’t real. No picture in the house was.

“Did Dr. Terminal speak to you when you confronted him?” Reginald asked.

“You shouldn’t have run off, we’re meant to plan...” One croaked.

Reginald held up a hand to One, cutting him off.

Five retorted anyway. “Why, so he could absorb Seven while we stood around watching you and Two argue who would charge in first?”

“You think Dr. Terminal was targeting Number Seven specifically?” Reginald interrupted, sternly drawing the boys’ attention back to him.

“He never said what he was targeting. It might have been a matter of opportunity, maybe not. He said something – something like he heard she’d keep him fed a long time. I think he just said that to scare her though.”

“No one even knows Seven exists outside of the Academy.” One reasoned, trying to clear his throat to strengthen his voice. It didn’t work but he carried on: “It must have been a coincidence. He found a weak point of entry and happened to find her. Nothing more. I mean why would anyone go after _Seven_?”

For a moment Five thought Reginald looked disturbed but, since he was positive the man was incapable of any and all emotion, he quickly dismissed it as a trick of the light.

“We will have to step up security at the Academy. It would appear our current system is inadequate.” Reginald declared, glaring at the children as though it were their fault the Academy’s defences had been breached – despite having designed and installed their current system himself.

“Our defences are already secure.” One stated warily. While he was the most patient for Reginald’s over-the-top surveillance (better suited for a police state in Five’s opinion), even he balked at the idea of more cameras. How would he ever find opportunities to sneak off with Number Three if his every step fell under even closer observation? “Surely it was just a freak event. We know Dr. Terminal is a skilled inventor; other villains we’ve encountered don’t have his kind of skill set.”

Reginald looked at his Number One disparagingly. “You think we should leave ourselves open to chance, Number One? Perhaps I should start leaving the front door unlocked also and hope the Academy’s opponents are too stupid to operate a handle?” He asked sardonically.

“No. Of course not, Father.” One said, thoroughly cowed with one remark.

“The bedrooms fronting the street are evidentially at a greater risk. Extra defences there may be necessary.”

“Like bars on the windows?” Five sighed.

“If necessary.”

“Why don’t we just move to an underground bunker?” He asked in as serious a tone as he could muster while feeling so exasperated.

“Your hyperbolism is unnecessary and unappreciated Number Five.” Reginald retorted, paying more attention to the papers on his desk than the boys to drive home how little he cared for Five’s opinions. “For now you will all stay in your current rooms, however rearrangements may be made after a review of the Academy’s defences is completed.”

“Seven can’t stay in her room tonight, the window is still broken.” Five pointed out, considering it likely that Reginald would forget her situation otherwise.

“She shouldn’t even be at the Academy.” Number One coughed. “It’s not safe for her here.”

“And where do you suggest she go?” Five immediately bit back, his lip curling with disgust. “On the street?”

“I didn’t mean it like that.” One defended. “I just meant she’s not safe living in a place that’s apparently become a target. I mean if we hadn’t been home who _knows_ what might have happened. She can’t protect herself like we can.”

“She protected herself just _fine_ , or did you forget that Seven was the one who knocked out Dr. Terminal while you were getting choked to death?”

Reginald looked up sharply, a motion unseen by the boys.

“While we took care of his _accomplice_. And if we hadn’t turned up in the first place she would have been drugged and _eaten_ before she even realised what was happening!”

“Number One, go see Grace about your neck. You can barely speak.” Reginald interrupted.

One’s eyes brightened from their frown of self-righteous concern, believing his Dad’s order was a show of concern rather than an act of dismissal.

Five watched One go, waiting for the door to close before turning back to Reginald with a topic in mind which he had wanted to broach for a long time.

“Seven should be trained in basic combat.”

“Number Seven is not a part of the Umbrella Academy, as such she does not require training in anything outside of academic subjects.”

“One had a point.” Five said, almost tasting bile as he reluctantly admitted that Number One – _One_ – was right about something. “This could just be the first. We could get attacked again and no system you install will _ever_ be infallible. Now sending Seven away isn’t a _real_ option,” he quickly clarified, before Reginald could latch onto such a terrible idea, “nowhere else could ever be safe enough and if some people _have_ realised she exists that makes her a target they could try to use to leverage against us. _No_ , it’s safer to have her in the Academy where we can protect her. But One was also right when he said we can’t always be here. Especially as we go on more missions out of the city.”

“During which Pogo and Grace are supervising Number Seven.” Reginald refuted.

“Pogo isn’t exactly a heavy weight boxer.” Five pointed out. “And Mom...”

“Grace is _fully_ capable of defending the Academy. I designed her to rear six powered children, after all.”

“She’s also a machine.” Five said bluntly. “A simple EMP device could render her inactive.”

“I will not sit here and debate hypothetical’s with you, Number Five. I have a great amount of work to do on the containment plans for Dr. Terminal.”

“You don’t even have to do it.” He continued regardless, imploring his Dad to listen to him for once. “I can teach her in my spare time.”

“When I return I will work with Pogo to review the Academy’s defences _however_ ,” he spoke sharply as Five opened his mouth to interrupt, “Number Seven’s classes require no moderations, and I shall make none. That is all, Number Five.”

Five tried to argue again.

“You are _dismissed_ , Number Five.” Reginald stated with an unquestionable authority.

As much as he hated it, Five forced himself to ground his teeth together to hold back the torrent of abuse that wanted to spill from his mouth, and turned out of the room.

He went looking for Seven, wanting to make sure she had gone to Mom like she had promised for her tests.

She hadn’t. She’d headed to the library instead, curling up on a couch with one of her depressing Russian books.

“Seven.” Five hissed more harshly than he had intended, still wound up from his meeting with Reginald. “You still haven’t been to the infirmary?”

She jumped a little, not hearing his approach, and had the grace to look sheepish.

“Number Two was still in there, so I came in here to wait and I...I guess I lost track of time.” Seven hastily explained. “Sorry. I’ll go now.”

Five caught her arm, keeping her on the couch. “There’s no point going just yet. One’s in there now. Keep reading.”

“Oh. Is he okay? I thought his neck looked bad before...”

“It looks worse now.” Five said, taking a seat beside her. “What are you reading?”

“Dostoevsky’s The Idiot.”

“Wow, I didn’t realise someone had written a book about our family.” Five groaned, leaning his head back against the cushions. He hadn’t realised how tightly wound he felt until he let himself sink down into his seat.

Cracking an eye open a minute later, he realised Seven was still sitting woodenly beside him with her book untouched in her lap.

“Seven, aren’t you going to keep reading?”

“Oh, do you mind?” She asked timidly, turning her head from him to focus on her book again. It didn’t fail to reach his attention that her cheeks looked unusually pink.

“Are you sure you feel okay? Because if not, screw One, we’ll go see Mom now.”

“No, no. I’m fine. It’s just a bit warm in here.”

Five thought the room felt quite cool, but he let it drop.

“Do you want to read aloud for a while?”

“Won’t that disturb you?”

“No. It’ll be nice. Although it would be better if you were reading something a little more factual.” Five said, thinking of the stack of physics books that had been sitting on his bedside table. He hadn’t thought to check earlier whether they had survived the mayhem, but he hoped it had.

“I can go get another book.” Seven replied, moving to stand.

Five pulled her back down. “Seven. I was joking.”

“Oh.” She breathed. “Well do you want me to start from the beginning?”

“No, that’s okay. I’ll probably fall asleep anyway.” Five replied, his eyes already drooping shut again.

He quickly opened them. “But wake me in about thirty minutes so we can go to the infirmary, okay?”

“You want me to _wake_ you?” Seven asked wryly, a small smile lifting the corners of her mouth. “I don’t have a death wish, you know.”

Five grinned. “I’ll be nice.”

He closed his eyes before he could notice her rosiness deepen, and soon the lull of Dostoevsky’s boring words knocked him out.

* * *

By the time the pair finally got out of the infirmary it was time for dinner.

Grace had quickly run tests on Seven’s blood but assured them she was fine, no serious drugs had been entered into her system, before excusing herself to make their supper.

Their evening meal was delayed due to the events of the afternoon, something Five gleefully expected would make their Father unhappy. He loved things to run on schedule.

Instead they were surprised to find the head seat unoccupied, with Pogo lingering beside it.

He instructed them to sit down and eat, only revealing the reason behind Reginald’s absence once the final pea had been scraped from Six’s plate and everyone’s cutlery was set aside.

“Master Hargreeves has travelled to the facility, which will house the criminal known as Dr. Terminal, tonight, rather than tomorrow, as was originally planned, so he can make his assessments before the prisoner arrives. He expects to be gone only tomorrow, returning in the late evening, however, depending on how difficult the modifications to the facility prove, there is a possibility that he will extend his trip.”

No one sat at the table was stupid enough to express their pleasure out loud, but Pogo could not help but smile indulgently at the gleam that came into all of their eyes.

“Now he expects you all to carry out your assignments and training tomorrow, however because of the shock of today’s events I have requested that you are given a lighter load.”

“ _Yes_.” Number Four hissed to himself.

Pogo sent him the expected look of disappointment, but carried on with his conveyed instructions despite Four’s interruption.

“But we will discuss your schedule in the morning. For now, you are excused for the night.”

The children hastily pushed back their chairs, eager to start their unsupervised night, but Pogo stopped Five and Seven before they could leave.

“Before you go. I have surveyed the damage to your rooms and have decided it would be best that you stay in guest quarters tonight until we make repairs. If you’ll follow me.” Pogo said, stepping back to allow them out of the dining room first.

They were on the same corridor as Pogo, a few doors down from his bedroom. The pair of rooms shared a Jack and Jill bathroom, something the duo were pleased to see.

“No battle for the showers tomorrow morning. We’ll be the envy of the house.” Five whispered in Seven’s ear, delighting at her returning smile.

“I’ll leave the two of you to choose which room you want.” Pogo said, giving them an indulgent smile. “Don’t be late to breakfast in the morning.” Was his final warning before he left them.

“You can have the bigger room.” They each said to the other.

While Seven opened her mouth to make her argument, Five took the simpler option and led her by the arm into her room.

“Here you go. I’ll go get changed.” He said, shutting the door on her.

Heading into the slightly smaller of the two rooms – though still substantially bigger than any of the children’s rooms – Five got into his pyjamas. He dawdled for a few minutes, glancing around the room and taking in the slightly different view from his window, before deciding that Seven must have finished changing by then and went back to see her, going through the bathroom rather than stepping back out into the corridor.

Seven looked comically dwarfed by the bed she sat in the centre of, her knees tucked under her chin making her look even smaller than usual.

“Are you okay?” Five asked, noting her blank expression. Maybe she was finally going into shock.

“Yeah.” Seven replied automatically, glancing at him. “It’ll be nice not having Dad around tomorrow.”

“We should make the most of it.” Five decided, sitting crossed legged at the foot of the bed.

“What do you mean?”

“How many opportunities do we get for some free time? Pogo won’t push us hard, and it shouldn’t be difficult for us to sneak out for a few hours. What do you say?”

Seven looked at him as though he’d just sprouted a second head.

“Leave the _house_?” She clarified.

He’d expected a response like this, so he took her bewilderment in his stride. “Yeah.”

“But we’ll get in trouble.”

“No we won’t.”

“But we _could_.”

“But we _won’t_.” Five easily countered. “Come on, you never leave the house. Let’s live a little.”

Seven struggled for words, still looking aghast at his proposal.

“There are cameras everywhere.”

“We’ll take the fire escape.”

“The fire escape.” She repeated dumbly.

“Yeah. We can use the one off One’s room like when we go to Griddy’s. He won’t mind. I bet he’s already planning to sneak off with Three anyway.”

“There are cameras in One’s room.”

“I’ll put them on a loop. I’ve already thought it through. I’ll just switch the current feed with some old footage of us in our rooms. If we leave the door shut Pogo wouldn’t bother disturbing us until dinner.”

“Our rooms are a wreck.” Seven pointed out, thinking for a split second that she had finally found the fatal flaw to his reckless plan.

“Mom’s already working on fixing them and Pogo said your window is getting replaced in the morning. They’ll be back to normal by the time we leave tomorrow afternoon.” Five rebutted, smirking as her face dropped. “You’re not scared are you?”

“Yes.”

Usually when he made such jabs at his brothers they came back at him with fury.

He hadn’t expected Seven to be so honest.

“Why?” He asked, as though he didn’t know.

Seven was as permanent a fixture in the house as Mom and Pogo. While Five was glad she wasn’t risking her neck going out on missions, only ever watching from a safe distance away, he also knew that such confinement couldn’t be healthy. Sure there was the odd excursion to Griddy’s, but that was still within the confines of the Academy – with their siblings gathered around them, talking about their limited daily experiences.

She couldn’t let the day she walked out of the house as a grownup be the first time she experience the real world. And so he was determined to drag her out, to let her see real people – to know that there was more to life than the one Reginald Hargreeves dictated for them, and outside the precise fantasies provided by her books.

He had it all planned out. All he needed was for her to say yes, and he knew he could get her to do that.

“I don’t want to get in trouble with Dad.” Seven explained.

“You won’t.”

“You can’t _promise_ that, Five.”

“Yes I can. I’m a genius, my plan’s foolproof.” He scoffed. “I won’t let us get caught.”

Seven’s eyes turned away from him, looking around the room for nonexistent support.

“Come on. Do you think I’m stupid or something?” Five cajoled.

Seven replied with a careful: “No.”

“Well there you go then. We’ll see what Pogo has in store for us tomorrow, and choose a time to go.” He announced, bouncing up from the bed before she could try to argue with him again. “Goodnight.”

Five left the connecting bathroom doors open, still convinced Seven had to go in shock eventually, and settled down for the night, savouring the ability to stretch out on the queen sized bed.

Going back to his narrow twin tomorrow would be difficult, was the final thought he acknowledged before the weight of the day sent him into an instant sleep.

He wasn’t oblivious to the reputation he had around the house as a mean sleeper. For as long as he could remember the slightest noise would wake him. At this point he wouldn’t be surprised if a mouse farting two floors above his head would somehow permeate his light REM cycle. Yet, despite being long used to light nights’ sleep, he still didn’t enjoy being disturbed. He didn’t like being woken up, be it by the morning alarm, Mom’s programmed smile, or his siblings making too much noise as they passed his room while trying to sneak out.

So when a soft click of the bathroom door disrupted his dream, his first instinct was to burrow his head deeper into the pillow he was now aware was beneath his cheek, and scrunch his eyes tighter to the outside world. And when the faucet began to run, his hands rose to clap out the sound. But when he heard a stifled sob over the gushing of water, he threw the sheets back and was on his feet before the last splutters of his dream could play out.

“Seven.” He called softly, outside his now closed bathroom door.

Five pressed a hand to the wood, wanting to push his way inside but he remained conscious of disturbing her privacy; in case he had imagined the cry and she really was just using the toilet.

“It’s me – Five. Can I come in?” He asked, when a hiccup from inside the room convinced him that his first instinct was correct.

He knocked again, becoming more concerned when he received no answer. “Seven?”

“I’m opening the door now.” He warned, slowly moving into the room.

She was sat on the closed toilet seat, her arms holding onto her legs with an iron grip, perspiration beading at her brow, drawing shallow breaths interspersed with sharp snivels while staring blankly at the wall opposite her.

Switching off the water, a futile attempt on her half of trying to mask the sound of her crying, Five hesitantly dropped into a crouch before her.

“Hey Seven.” He greeted calmly. “Why aren’t you in bed?”

Her erratic breathing stopped her from replying but at least he now had her eyes on him.

“Sitting on that toilet can’t be very comfortable.” Five commented. “Why don’t we go back to your room, hmm?”

“I think Six once said that when Four has panic attacks he sits with him and rubs his back.” He mused. “I don’t really understand how that would help, but we can try that if you want?”

“Or maybe,” Five mused, continued his thinking aloud as Seven remained quiet, “you could try and match my breathing?”

He took in a deep inhalation and gesticulated at her to emulate him. Finally he seemed to get through to her as she immediately copied the breath.

Drawing out his breathing, as if he were preparing for a circuit run, Five stayed quiet barring some gentle words of encouragement, until Seven could seem to breathe normally on her own again.

“Sorry,” was the first word out of her mouth, to which Five instantly rolled his eyes.

“For what?”

“Waking you up.”

“Oh, well that’s fair. I thought you were apologising for having a panic attack, which would be stupid. But yeah, you _should_ be sorry for waking me up.” He joked, offering her a hand.

The pair stood up to Five’s relief; his knees had protested from staying crouched for so long.

Guiding her with a hand on her back, Five urged her to lay back down on the bed. She happily went, grabbing the blanket to pull up to her chin. Her skin was almost as white as the covers, looking far more pallor than usual.

“I’ll go get you some water.” Five said after he settled her, jumping back to the bathroom before she could protest.

“Here.” He said when he returned, pressing the glass into her hand before switching on the bedside lamp.

“All anyone in this house seems to do is bring me water.” She said deprecatingly, thinking back on Number Six that afternoon.

“Well I would bring you a gin and tonic but I don’t think you’d like it.”

“Probably not.” Seven agreed with a wrinkle of her nose.

“Why didn’t you wake me up earlier?” Five accused, taking the glass from Seven to put on the bedside table after she’d taken a sip.

She tried to joke him away. “I told you earlier, I don’t have a death wish.”

“I don’t care when it’s you. Especially if you need help. I’d rather you come and get me then suffer in silence.” Five said, watching her face. “Do you get these often or was it because of today?”

Seven tilted her head back and forth. “Bit of both.”

“I thought those pills Dad gives you are for anxiety. Shouldn’t they stop them?”

“He tells me I should take an extra dose when I have an attack.” She said unhappily.

“Do you want me to get one for you?” Five offered, looking for another opportunity to do something proactive.

“No, I had one before bed. I don’t like to take too many, it makes me feel weird.” Seven explained.

“Okay. Did you have a bad dream? Is that why you woke up? Was it about Dr. Terminal?” He asked with a clenched jaw. “Because he’s locked up, and he’s not getting out this time. And the other guy is dead, so he’s not coming back either. You’re _safe_ now.”

“I was just thinking about what he said.” Seven said in a small voice. “And what would have happened if you didn’t hear me.”

“But I did hear you. I always hear you.” Five pointed out. Unlike his asshole siblings, he always listened to Seven.

“I know.” She sighed. “But I can’t stop myself from thinking about what would have happened if you hadn’t gotten there in time.”

“But I did.”

“If he’d knocked me out before I could scream, you might not have.”

“I was coming for you as soon as I heard the glass break.” Five promised, dropping down on the bed beside her.

“Well what if you weren’t there.”

Her reasoning was coming close to what he’d argued to Dad. Usually, Five would agree with her points and tell her about his conversation, his efforts to make her safer, but in that moment he felt, for once, it was better to lie to his best friend than to tell her the truth – he was trying to make her feel better after all.

“Mom is very capable.” Five said, echoing Reginald’s earlier statement. “Have you not seen her help us in training before? Number One once threw her across a room, she stood right back up. She can protect you.”

“I guess I’m a little sick of having to be protected.” Seven huffed.

For a brief second, he thought that was a veiled criticism levelled at him. As One had said, she was in danger because of them. Because of Dad, Five corrected himself. Nevertheless it was still true.

She kept speaking: “I don’t like being useless.”

“You’re not _useless_.” He insisted. “You never have been and you certainly weren’t today! I mean, you _knocked out_ an escaped convict! That was awesome. You’ve never even had training.”

Seven blushed under the rare compliment. “Only because you distracted him.”

“Don’t undermine yourself. You did amazing today. Dad should have told you so.”

“That seems unlikely.” She snorted.

“True. But the rest of us were impressed.”

“ _You_ were.” Seven corrected.

“And Six.” Five pointed out.

“And Six.” She said, agreeing to the amendment. The absence of their other siblings’ praise hung between them. “Two still told me I should have stayed out of the way though. That I was stupid to stay in the room.”

“When?”

“When I first went down to the infirmary to see Mom.”

Five snorted derisively, annoyed by Two’s thoughtlessness. “He’s just pissed that he got taken out so quickly. Besides, how were you meant to stay out of the way? Dr. Terminal came through _your_ window and chased you.”

“Two is such a fucking moron. You shouldn’t listen to him.” Five muttered mostly to himself, grabbing a pillow to prop his head on.

“You know it’s actually kind of insulting.” He continued.

His words took Seven by surprise: “What?”

“I tell you you’re amazing. Two tells you you’re stupid. Yet, instead of listening to me, the genius of the family, you listen to _him_. Number Two. The last one of us to figure out how to tie his shoelaces. It’s insulting.” Five said, knocking her side lightly with one of his elbows. “I thought you were meant to be my best friend?”

“I am.” Seven said good-naturedly, a small smile blooming on her face as she realised he was only teasing her.

“Prove it.” He said, knocking her again.

“Two is a... _moron_?” She tried hesitantly.

“I was thinking you could try saying you’re amazing, but I’m always up for hearing someone call Two a moron. Ideally someone other than One, because, let’s be honest, that’s like the pot calling the kettle black.”

Seven laughed, letting the covers drop slightly as she warmed up. She had more colour in her cheeks too, he was pleased to see. He hoped that meant – despite not following Six’s advice – he was doing the right thing, and helping Seven feel calmer.

“Do you want me to stay in here tonight?” Five asked, toying with the edge of her sheet, wanting to get underneath. While Five wasn’t sure exactly how much Reginald Hargreeves was worth, he knew it was enough to cover the annual costs of heating such a large house; yet he always left it cooler than any of them would like during the coldest months of the year. His bare feet were freezing. 

“We have enough room.”

“That’s true.” Seven said uncomfortably. “You don’t _have_ to stay with me though.”

Scooting up the bed momentarily so he could slide down under the duvet, Five ignored her attempts at self-sacrifice and hunkered down. There were no cameras in the guest rooms, Seven usually woke up before the morning alarm, and, as he said, the bed was more than adequate in size for two twelve year olds. There was no justification in leaving her alone to stew in fear.

“I don’t mind.” He assured before he switched off the lamp, plunging them back into darkness.

The guest room they were occupying was on the opposite side of the corridor to where they usually slept, overlooking the courtyard instead of the road, meaning the room was far darker than they were used to in the absence of the outside streetlights.

Seven waited a moment before having the nerve to shuffle slightly closer to his side of the bed.

Five completed the journey for her, moving over until they were side-by-side in the middle with their arms touching.

“It’ll be hard to go back tomorrow.” Seven mumbled, pulling the hair from under her back and out to the side so she could settle more comfortably.

“Hmm?”

“To our regular beds.” She clarified. “I wonder why Dad doesn’t let us sleep in these rooms. It’s not like they ever get used.”

“Maybe it’s our carrot. Something to incentivise us with. Do something amazing, maybe one day you get one of these rooms. Do something bad, you get the stick; recreation hours are revoked. It’s classic conditioning, wouldn’t you say?”

“I guess.” Seven said, running her hand over the floral patterned comforter.

“Go to sleep. We’ve got a busy day tomorrow.” Five urged.

“What with the sneaking out.” She intoned.

He turned onto his side to face her. “If you want I can make time to mess with Two. You know those vegetables you don’t like that I sneak off your plate?”

Seven nodded into the pillow.

“Well I’ve been storing them up. I was originally thinking about stuffing them in One’s bed, but I could use them on Two instead. It might get him off his high horse. They’re really mouldy now. Maybe instead of his bed I could put it in his shoes. Can you imagine his face?”

The little shit deserved nothing less.

“It would serve him right. He shouldn’t be so mean to you.” Five grumbled into the night.

“My hero.” Seven said wryly, with what Five guessed was one of her rare playful smirks. For a second he wished he’d left the light on so he could see it.

He kept up the playful tone: “I live to serve.”

“Go to sleep, Five. You’re meant to be carrying out some super genius plan to get us out of here without getting caught, and I’d rather you not try it while sleep deprived.”

“It’ll be okay, Seven. Trust me?”

“Always.”

* * *

Five hadn’t wanted to voice his prediction aloud, for fear that he get the other’s hopes up, but it was proved right when Pogo let the children sleep for an extra half hour instead of waking them up at the usual six-thirty.

Grace greeted them at the kitchen dining table, telling the children they could sit wherever they like and could choose from a selection of food the table looked ready to buckle under the weight of.

Rather lamely they all sat in their usual spots, with the exception of Pogo who joined them in the seat across from Seven.

Still, they latched onto the opportunity to have conversations amongst themselves during the meal – savouring the lack of a monotonous lecture.

Six quickly pulled Seven into conversation, wanting to talk about what happened yesterday afternoon, and, rather than attempt chatting to Number Three (who was too busy trying and failing to subtly play footsie with Number One under the table to provide much stimulation), he drowned his food in his attention, meticulously stacking the waffles he had chosen before drenching them in what he considered to be the perfect amount of syrup.

They nearly disintegrated under the stream, but to Five it was perfect; as tooth-rottenly sweet as it ended up being.

“Children.” Pogo called, once they had finished scrapping their plates clean. “Sir Reginald left me a strict list of targets he wishes each of you to meet in your training today.”

He waited patiently while an irritated groan went around the table, though Five remained stubbornly optimistic.

“However, I see no reason to add additional work to this list.” Pogo said. “So – if you start sooner rather than later, it is possible you could finish these tasks by lunchtime. And once you are finished with today’s work...”

“Where’s that list?” Four said, jumping to his feet.

Pogo produced it from his waistcoat, and handed it over to Four. One snatched it before Four’s fingers could even run over the paper.

“Training and lessons. Okay, Academy in the training room. Mom, Seven, make sure everything is ready for class once we’re done so we don’t waste time. Let’s move.” One instructed, eager to take over.

“Who d-died and put y-you in charge?” Two griped.

“Do you want _not_ want to finish early?” Four interjected, voice heavy with disbelief.

“I didn’t s-say t-that.” He huffed.

Five leaned towards Seven, no interest in seeing the squabble play out. “I’ll see you soon.”

He jumped to the training room and started doing warm-ups, finishing just as the others eagerly packed into the room.

One had torn the sheet with their training activities into slips for each number, and passed them around.

“Okay. Mom is all set up in the classroom. We’ve got an algebra test to complete, then we need to read a passage from the chemistry textbook, and finally make a DNA model. Seven will lay out all the materials so all we need to do is put it together and Mom said she’d help us do it.” One informed, heading straight for the gym equipment to start setting up his training activity.

Five glanced down at his sheet as Pogo walked in, several clipboards in hand and three stopwatches hanging around his neck.

“Now I know you are all eager to get on with your day, but it is still important that your tasks are done correctly otherwise we shall have to repeat them. Is that understood?” Pogo said seriously, waiting for their murmurs of ascent. “I am happy to give you all an opportunity to have fun, however if you make me regret granting you this autonomy it will be the last time you receive such freedoms from me. Is this clear?”

“Yes Pogo.” Five diligently replied, echoing his siblings. His foot tapped impatiently, ready to get on with the day.

“Excellent. Shall we proceed?”

Reginald was still testing Five’s ability to contort as he jumped, and they had created an obstacle course in the room's corner for him to practice with. He first needed to go from standing to laying on his stomach to fit inside the tube which, once he had finished crawling the length of, he needed to jump from; this time onto a climbing wall, fully standing with his hands ready to grab a hold of the rope. Once he had reached the top, he needed to jump again onto the next climbing wall (bypassing the monkey bars), before taking on a crouched position for the final activity: performing a net crawl.

Pogo, aware of Five’s determination when it came to his own training, entrusted him with his own stopwatch, leaving him free to time One and Two’s activities.

Five looped it beside the start line, clicked it to begin and set off.

He knocked twenty seconds off his previous best time. Usually he would consider going again, striving for better results, but today all he needed to do was to cross off the activity. He would doubtlessly do it again tomorrow anyway.

Rushing out of the training room, he rushed to put his uniform back on, and jumped to the classroom.

“I’ve got to play a piece to Pogo.” Seven told him as she edged out of the door. “The algebra test is easy, and the textbook is going over electromagnetism; which we already know about from reading that book on Faraday. There are a few questions at the end of the section, you could probably skip right to them and be able to answer them all.”

“Okay. Wait for me in my room once you’re done.” Five said, before hurrying over to his desk to start.

Seven was right. It was a cakewalk.

The other’s struggled once they finally made it to the classroom, but that was no concern to him. They played no part in his plan for the afternoon.

He went to grab himself and Seven a sandwich from the kitchen, went to Dad’s security room to tamper with the cameras, then jumped a final time to his bedroom.

“Here.” He said, shoving the sandwich in Seven’s direction. Once he was sure she had a hold of it, he went over to the wardrobe and started rooting around for the coats he had stashed at the bottom.

“What are you looking for?” Seven asked around a mouthful of her lunch.

“After our last growth spurt, Dad replaced our coats. Remember?”

“Right.” She intoned.

“Well he was going to throw the old ones away but I got two back. Then I unpicked the logo. They’re a bit short but if we lose the blazers and wear these, no one will suspect we’re a part of the Academy.”

“You can have my old one, it should fit. I grabbed One’s.” Five said, shrugging it on. It fit rather well, although the lining had several tears inside it for some reason.

“Hurry.” Five urged, watching Seven pick at her lunch.

“I can only eat so fast.” She complained. “Besides, it’s weird eating while someone is staring at you.”

“Fine. I’ll go grab us some other hats and scarves. Mom has some that you can use.”

When he jumped back to the room with several choices in hand, he groaned in disappointment to find that Seven still hadn’t finished.

“A mouse would have finished that faster.”

“I’m full. Finish it for me?” She asked, holding out the remaining corner.

Scoffing it in two bites, Five held up his old coat for her to put on. Only when he was satisfied that she was bundled up in enough layers, did he lead the way out.

Opening the door to Number One’s room, ignoring One’s grunt of surprise from the unannounced intrusion and his quick dive for a pillow to cover himself with (as he had been halfway through changing out of his uniform), Five led the way to the window. He had to guide Seven, who had covered her eyes in an attempt to preserve One’s modesty.

“Hey!” One finally managed, getting over his surprise at their abrupt arrival to finally yell. His voice was still rough from yesterday, and the one cry made him cough.

“I put the security cameras for the whole corridor on a loop,” Five informed, glancing out at the fire escape, “and the staircase leading up to the roof. It looks like we’re in our rooms. Thank me later.”

He swung one leg out, followed by the next, ducking his head under the frame. Once he was outside, he offered a hand out to Seven and helped her through.

“Thanks, One.” Seven said unnecessarily as they left, not looking back on their half-naked brother as she spoke to him.

“Err, sure.” One replied uncertainly, not sure whether he should scold them for their behaviour or thank Five for helping him in his plans with Three. In the end he said nothing as he watched them move away.

“How was it with Pogo?” Five asked, standing on the street and watching Seven climb down the last three rungs.

“Fine. I played Le Cygne by Saint-Saëns. It’s really meant to be played on the cello,” she replied a little breathlessly, still fearful of climbing down the ladder, “but it’s not very long, and Pogo seemed to like it.”

Once she was standing beside him, Five wasted no time in grabbing her arm and pulling her down the alley towards the street.

“ _So_ , are you going to _finally_ tell me where we’re going?” Seven asked. “Or do I have to guess?”

“You can guess if you want.” Five said, guiding her towards the bus stop he knew was a block over. He didn’t want to chance using the one near the Academy entrance, in case Reginald had additional security cameras in the region.

“Hmm, the park?” She chanced.

“In this weather?” He exclaimed, looking at her like she was nuts. “Have you seen the sky, it will definitely snow again.”

“You like the snow.”

“Yeah. When I’m inside looking out at it.”

“ _I_ like snow.” Seven stated.

“You do?”

“It’s pretty.” She responded, glancing at the sky wistfully. “Do you really think it’ll snow again?”

“It’s been snowing all week, I don’t see why not. Anyway, we’re not going to the park. It’s too cold.” Five insisted, pointedly leading her around a nasty patch of ice. “Maybe in the spring, if Dad goes away again.”

“Okay. Well...Griddy’s then?” Seven guessed.

“Griddy’s is in the opposite direction.”

“Oh yeah. The movies?”

Five snorted.

“That’s a no then.” Seven mused. “A history museum?”

“Warmer.” He said, coming to a stop.

Seven looked at the sign. “Five, we don’t have any money for a bus.”

“Yes we do.”

“From where?”

“Dad’s vault.” Five replied, chancing a peek at her face. She was looking rather judgemental. “Think of it as my share from that little private job Dad had us do last month.”

“At MoMA? Hmm, well I guess it’s okay since you did all the work. But...”

“I won’t make a habit of it.” Five said, giving her a smile that was all teeth as he continued. “Unless we’re planning to go somewhere else then I _definitely_ will. Given how paranoid he is on security at the house, he’s surprisingly lack with his money vault. There’s a little window in the door and once I saw the other side I could jump through.”

He saw the bus turn onto the street.

“Anyway, you didn’t mind that I took those postcards for you.”

“No.” Seven admittedly guiltily. “But then you said the gift shop was badly damaged – they wouldn’t have noticed.”

“No they wouldn’t have.” Five laughed.

He raised an arm to signal the bus to stop.

“Aren’t they going to wonder why we’re alone?” Seven asked nervously.

“I hate to break it to you Ven, but a lot of kids our age go on day trips without adult supervision. Even if it’s a short bus trip away.”

He urged her to go ahead and pick a seat while he paid for their tickets, telling her it would be cheating if she heard him tell the driver their destination.

She sat near the front, behind an old man who had lacquered his cologne on far too thickly.

“A science museum?”

“Colder.”

Seven huffed. “Can’t you just tell me?”

“You’re the one who started guessing. Don’t tell me you’re giving up so easily!” He said with exaggerated surprise.

She pursed her lips at him. “Are we going to an art gallery?”

“You’re burning.” Five stated, resuming their game.

“MoMA?” Seven asked hopefully.

“I knew you’d get there eventually.”

Her face lit up. “Really? I’ve always wanted to go.” She said, almost giddy on excitement.

Five couldn’t remember the last time he had seen her so happy.

“I know. You may have mentioned it once or twice.”

“I thought you found it boring though?” Seven asked, the anticipation dulling in her eyes.

“I found the _event_ boring. I didn’t get much chance to look at the art.” Five embellished.

The political candidate’s speech had actually been held in a room surrounded by several well-known pieces. And when he’d scoped the building he had walked through a few exhibitions.

Art was never a particular interest of his, but he could appreciate it. In the same way that he would never contemplate wasting his time learning to play an instrument, yet he still enjoyed hearing Seven’s music.

“Besides, I’d go on a tour of an abandoned coal mine if it means I can get away from the Academy for a day.”

Seven beamed at him again, shuffling forward slightly to sit on the edge of her seat in eagerness for their stop to arrive.

“Is it far?” She asked, having no real gauge of how big the city they occupied was. To her, Griddy’s felt like an eternity away from home when it was only a few street blocks.

“No. Only twenty minutes or so.” Five replied, leaning back in his seat.

When they exited the bus, the sign for the museum entrance in sight, it was Seven who yanked on Five’s arm with impatience.

“Okay, calm down. Mind the ice. The last thing we need is a trip to the E.R.” He warned, slowing her down to a safer pace. Their shoes weren’t really designed for winter weather, since the children spent the majority of their time indoors or being transported in the car.

“How much are the tickets?” She asked as they strode along the sidewalk.

“Under 16s go for free.” Five answered around a smile. Her eagerness was infectious.

Seven pulled him through the front door. “How long can we stay for?”

Checking his watch, Five told her they’d have a few hours before they’d have to catch the bus home for dinner.

“Let’s look at a map, then we can choose what we want to see.” She decided, quickly identifying which floors and rooms her favourite pieces were in.

Five surveyed the crowd a custom warily, used to being in such venues on missions rather than for recreation, only returning his attention to Seven when she gasped unexpectedly.

“They have a Gleizes exhibit. Can we start there?”

“Sure.” Five said, letting Seven take his hand again and guide him to where she wanted to go.

They found all the artists Seven wanted to see: Warhol, Cézanne, Matisse, Dalí, Monet – on and on they went with Seven analysing and cooing over them all. When they finally made it to what she had decided early on in life was her favourite painting – Van Gogh’s Starry Night – Five expected the ultimate explosion of excitement but, as she often did, Seven surprised him by standing mute before it.

She pulled him backwards onto a bench so they could comfortably sit before it, Seven raking her eyes over every brush stroke to commit its beauty to memory. There wasn’t a single part of the painting or the day that she wanted to forget.

“Better than a postcard?” Five eventually asked, needing to break her from her reverie as he became conscious of the time.

“It’s beautiful.” She said, eyes shining. “It’s so much richer in person. I think I could sit here forever.”

Seven turned to face him with a sad smile. “Which I guess means it’s time to go?”

“Sorry.” Five shrugged. “If it helps, I probably want to go back to the Academy even less than you do.”

“I doubt that.” Seven said, standing up.

“Let’s not start this argument again.” He muttered, taking her hand once more to keep her close beside him. While no one around them had displayed any suspicious behaviour, and Five knew that the museum’s security team was well trained, after yesterday he felt better keeping her near.

“Thank you for bringing me here Five.” Seven told him once they were back on the bus. She stared out of the window as she spoke, watching the snow float past the steamed up glass. “I don’t think I realised how much I needed this.”

“Anytime Seven.” He promised, making a vow to himself to get her out of the Academy at the next opportunity.

Reginald had to go away again at some point and, so long as their siblings hadn’t screwed up in the last few hours, Pogo would let them escape for a second time. Maybe then it would even be warm enough for that trip to a park.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 11 (fucking) thousand words! Just...*sigh*. Consider yourselves lucky I put in some line breaks! The next two chapters will not be this long, although I will not rule out the fourth chapter being a monster too ':D If you've somehow made it to the end of this and haven't lost the will to read (or live), please leave me a comment and let me know what you think! This story is going to be very Five & Vanya heavy, but the next story in the series will return the focus to the other siblings so don't worry if you're waiting for Ben.  
> I was a bit hesitant about introducing Dr. Terminal since I don't think Five ever fought him in the comics (that happened after he left), but I wanted more comic book elements so he was thrown in there. Elastomer is an original creation (unbelievable, I know). 
> 
> N.B. I've made a rule to myself. Before I publish the next chapter of this story I have to edit the next chapter in my manuscript - I've only got three chapters to do and I need the motivation (seriously, I work all day doing proofreading and editing; coming back home and doing it is such a drag!). I figured it should work well given how much I love writing TUA fics. So if you want the next chapter you need to hound me in the comments to stop being lazy and work on my damn book XD  
> Love to you all. Thanks for reading <3


	2. Autumn 1932

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Five invests his wages from the Commission.

Five stood on the boundary of his new property and assessed it with a critical eye.

Like many Commission agents, Five was free to invest his salary in assets from any time period provided they did not risk affecting future events – for instance – by purchasing stock shares in important companies, or buying up real estate in popular districts. Five had wisely invested most of his wages in gold (knowing it would not lose its monetary value) and properties in isolated locations.

While they made most of these transactions through the agency (which conducted a risk assessment before authorising the acquisition), he knew it wasn’t uncommon for agents to make some of their purchases off the books. A security net you could say, in case they ever got on the wrong side of their handlers and needed to drop off the grid.

The moment the Handler had disappeared from the apocalypse, leaving an offer of employment in her wake, Five knew he would eventually break his contract with the agency. He worked for them first to escape the apocalypse, second to return to his family and save the world. Whether his powers could get him there he still wasn’t sure. The briefcase could do the job, but it was carefully monitored by the Commission; it wasn’t a real option for him. As soon as he dropped off their radar the hunt would begin, there was no need to make it easier for them by utilising their technology.

When the Handler had made her offer it was clear they would never allow him to return to his own timeframe after retirement. Which was why his clandestine purchases had to take place in the past and kept in remote locations where they wouldn’t be disturbed by the ravages of time. So they would still be around once he got back, ready to utilise or liquidate. Even if he made it back to the time before Dad’s death, Five shuddered at the thought of being reliant on him once again. Besides, there were other factors in his purchases; he had promises to live up to.

It was with that thought he surveyed his house once more. If he could even call it _his_ house. It hadn’t been bought with himself in mind; instead he had followed an idea which had been painted to him over four decades ago. It was a memory he clung onto, returning to it regularly to strengthen its vibrancy.

Seven burrowed beside him on the bed after another bad day, whispering that she wanted to go somewhere quiet with him. “But outside, a big open space. With mountains and trees, maybe a lake. Somewhere I can play without having to worry what people around me think.” She had mumbled to him, in that soft voice he was finding increasingly difficult to accurately conjure in his fading memories. He remembered what she said to him though. Her book had proved how many small moments he’d lost to time, but he remembered the important things. He remembered that they planned to run. Across the country, through time, it didn’t matter so long as they got out. And he remembered every day the moment he did it without her. The shock on her face as he bolted, bereft eyes that would haunt him forever until he could make things right again.

Raking his eyes over the cabin stood before him – burrowed away under looming cedar trees, that were themselves overshadowed by tall hills and taller mountains, located only a short hike away from a lake – he wondered if finding somewhere that met her requirements was enough to gain her forgiveness. To him it didn’t feel like enough but then, until he could finally apologise to her in words, Five felt that guilt would be an ever present companion.

Stomping up the porch stairs, Five pulled open the door and started assessing the interior for potential security risks. For a start he would need to install additional locks on the doors and windows to deter any wayward hikers from breaking and entering during his long stretches of absence. He couldn’t chance coming to the property too often; only when he was on assignment in the area. With the tracker in his arm it was too much of a risk. Therefore, he needed to ensure the property was as secure as possible before taking his leave.

Five contemplated placing traps around the property’s boundaries but figured that would most likely attract the attention of the park rangers if any protected species or unsuspecting people got caught in them, who would then look for the cabin’s owner to demand their removal. And if they thought the property was abandoned it may get auctioned or demolished. No, he would have to stick to security measures solely on the property itself.

He tried to detach himself, and consider the house as something he was casing for a mission, however it was more difficult than he had expected it to be to do so. Every room he wandered into, he found himself first trying to picture through Vanya’s eyes rather than through those of an opportunistic criminal. Wondering whether she would like it, what she would make of it. If they would ever even get the chance to visit it at all.

Were the windows too small in the kitchen?

The back door needed replacing, Five could break it down with a single kick and that was with his bad knees.

He didn’t strictly need the second bedroom for himself. He could sleep on the couch (much better to monitor the doors anyway) and Vanya could use it as a music room. Or maybe, if he managed to travel far enough backwards, it could be Ben’s room. Ben would like it here, Five was sure. Then again, like Vanya, Five was fairly certain Ben would like living anywhere if it enabled him to escape Reginald Hargreeves.

Five moved on to the next room.

The pipes creaked loudly as he tested the taps, even then, early after the cabin’s construction. He would need to turn off the water supply to ensure they wouldn’t leak while the house was empty.

Would it bother Vanya that there was no dining room?

He would need to board up the fireplace as it was a potential entry point, however he should leave the chimney stack free for future use. It wouldn’t be prudent to install central heating in the future, it would involve too much work and attract too much attention.

Five dropped onto a wooden chair (one of the few items of furniture he had risked installing in the house), his head falling into his hands at the same time.

He wished Dolores was there to snap him back to attention. She was wonderful at that, at getting him to focus on the matters at hand. There was too much he had to do before he needed to leave – he couldn’t afford to reminisce, to wonder, and to grieve. He had to keep moving. There were only a few more years after all; the hardest days were over. They had to be.

But Dolores wasn’t there. And with his hands clapped over his eyes, it was easier to forget the present, easier to ignore his worries for the future, and return to the safety of the past. His terrible past, his horrible childhood, his best times. He felt he deserved as much, on that day most of all.

He hadn’t bothered to celebrate his birthday in decades. Even when he lived under Hargreeves’ roof he only tolerated the day for his siblings’ sake. Age was a meaningless number: one he originally counted down, waiting for the day he was old enough to leave home; later using it as a mark for how long he had been away from his family, and how shamefully long it was taking him to correct his past mistakes.

If Vanya were here he would celebrate it for her.

Five tried to imagine the changes she would make to the house – if she would put up balloons and signs like Grace had once done. Whether they’d bake a cake or buy one. Maybe she wouldn’t care anymore, preferring to spend the day outside. Perhaps by his next birthday he would know, they could possibly be spending it together. The others might even be there too, fighting over cake and presents and everything else under the sun.

Locking the front door behind him, Five crossed the short distance to reach the official hiking trail. It was time to get back.

Vanya had always been hopeless at hiking, Five thought as he walked; he hoped she had improved in the elapsing years or she could struggle on these treks.

When he had taken her to the park, months after their first excursion out of the Hargreeves manor to an art gallery, Five had spent the entire walk with outstretched arms as his best friend seemed determined to face plant into the dirt. In fairness her excitement had made her unusually clumsy, as the promise of a Reginald-free week had made them all slightly giddy.

After the seven had returned to the manor on time, unscathed and with no reports of bad behaviour following their first outings, Pogo had seen it fit to turn his head once again when the next opportunity for unsupervised fun emerged during the following summer.

Reginald had been invited to a prestigious event in mainland Europe, connected to recent advances made in space technology. Why Reginald had been invited, Five was never sure – he had been much too preoccupied planning his next escape with Seven.

After numerous weeks of watching Seven barely able to fully open her eyes, Five had learnt Reginald had increased her medication dose. While he’d at first tried to encourage her to revert to her previously prescribed amount, Seven had insisted it was necessary and had been characteristically defiant in her refusal to break with Dad’s commands. Her mood stabilised with time, however Five noticed she was increasingly withdrawn – not taking part in their discussions with as much interest, always deferring to his opinion while her attention shifted to look out the window.

At first it had been a struggle not to snap at her and, after he found out the reason, to not take out his frustration on Reginald and the other adults who were apathetic to Seven’s increasing lethargy. Not to mention his _siblings_ , who barely noticed the difference in their seventh member’s behaviour.

With the absence of their dispassionate dictator, Five had seized the opportunity to try and bring Seven back out of her shell by living up to his previous promise to bring her to a park. As the weather was warmer he thought he’d have less to worry about, but he hadn’t foreseen that Seven would want to take to one of the walking trails.

“It’ll be fun.” She had insisted, grabbing his hand and pulling him along with more enthusiasm than she had shown in months. Five hadn’t had the heart to say no to her, and quickly took the lead along the trail.

Despite the signposts stating it was an easy route, the rains from the previous night had made the path slick with mud which their shoes weren’t designed to handle. They’d had to stick to the edges of the path, with sticks and branches occasionally scratching their skin and tangling into Seven’s hair.

She’d looked a fright when they reached the end a few hours later, Five probably not looking much better. He had to pull her onto a bench and wash their shoes off in a nearby duck pond.

Seven laughed at him the whole time.

“You won’t be laughing if you leave muddy shoeprints all over the house.” Five had told her, in as stern a voice as he had been able to manage. Really he was just relieved to see her smile again.

“I think you got it all.” She chuckled, tying her shoelaces. “Is my hair okay?”

Five plucked out another leaf. “You’ll do.”

“Charmer.” Seven snorted. “Do we have to go back soon?”

“We’ve still got some time.” Five assured. “And then we have tomorrow. And the day after tomorrow. And the day _after_ the day tomorrow...”

“I can’t believe Dad’s gone for a whole week.” Seven breathed, beaming at him.

They’d spent that week feeling the entire time that the carpet was about to be pulled from under their feet, fearing Reginald’s unexpected reappearance, yet, amazingly, everything had gone smoothly. The seven had even found time to sneak off to Griddy’s together, around Pogo’s light training schedules and their individual activities. It was one of the best weeks of their lives.

It had only been a month later that he ran away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the long wait, but I managed to *finally* finish editing my manuscript (I'm imagining all of your shocked disbelief here). I've uploaded it to Inkitt and would really appreciate it if any of you could have a look at it as I'm in desperate need of feedback: https://www.inkitt.com/stories/drama/191165. I am contemplating uploading it to ao3 also, but I'm not sure about how protected the document would be. 
> 
> Secondly, I've finally joined tumblr! I'm under the same name as on here (263adder) so look me up!  
> Now my original works are done I can concentrate solely on this series, so hopefully there shouldn't be too long a wait until the next chapter - I know there was a long gap between these first two chapters so I really appreciate your patience. It won't be that long, like this one, but these middle chapters are mostly here to set up the final one which will be a biggie both in length and plot wise. As always let me know what you think. And thank you to everyone who left feedback on the first chapter, you guys are seriously the best <3


	3. Spring 2019

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Five contemplates what he has to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the delay, my computer has been broken for nearly a week now. I was only able to write this because I finally got a keyboard for my iPad.

He was back.

It was unfortunate he had arrived with only eight days before the apocalypse, it didn’t leave him much to work with, and his current appearance was a real shit show, but he was back. Given everything he had to endure to get this far, Five figured he should be grateful.

He should be grateful his family were still alive, frustratingly useless though they were.

He should be grateful he was now able to actively pursue the lead he had first found minutes after arriving in the apocalypse; now sat in a stolen van watching for signs of the doctor who could help him find the next clue.

He should be grateful that the Commission agents who had been sent to dispatch him had, so far, been comically inept at their jobs, failing to kill him with every attempt. He should even be grateful that the Commission had shaped him into such an effective agent in the first place, that he had been able to survive their attempts on his life with relative ease.

Five guessed he should be grateful for a lot of things; but he wasn’t.

Everything was too stifling, there was no room, no time, for him to feel anything - gratefulness or otherwise. Nothing could stop him from finally completing his mission. The mission he had set himself over four decades ago.

Stopping the apocalypse was the only thing of importance. There was no time to contemplate anything beyond that, no matter how tempted a part of him was to start planning for the future he had just taken back for himself. He could consider family reunions, and other types of reunions, later. Readjusting to his old life would take time, time he could only afford after this week was over. When there was a future. Thinking about finding somewhere to live, maybe getting a job, was not something he had time to mull over. Wondering if it would be possible to get his real body back - something else for later.

“Do you think the others will find it weird?” Five asked before he could stop himself.

“Maybe at first, but they’ll adapt.” Delores replied from her perch in the back.

Her tone was disapproving. She knew as well as he did that he needed to focus.

If - when - he stopped the apocalypse, there would be plenty of time for thoughts like that. He could plan his future, he could worry about the more troubled members of his family, he could find a home...

“I’m sure it’s fine.” Delores assured. “It will be there waiting for you. Once everything is over.”

“Once everything is over.” Five echoed.

“Soon.”

“Soon.”

Delores sighed patiently. “Everything will be fixed. You can do this, Five. I know you can.”

“Thanks, Delores.”

Five lifted his binoculars again and checked the reception. There was still no one but a security guard by the door and a woman working the front desk.

She had long hair like Vanya once had. He wondered...

“It’s too far from here.” Delores warned.

“I know.” Five grumbled, silently cursing her perceptiveness. He had only thought of it for a moment, yet they both knew any moment not spent focused on the apocalypse was a wasted one.

“And you don’t need any of your assets. There’s no running and hiding from something like this.” She continued. Angry though he may appear to anyone else, Delores knew he needed to hear it. 

He did.

Because he did know. Years he had futilely combed the wasted landscape and he had never come across anyone who had survived. No lucky parties emerged from an underground bunker. Despite tuning radios he never heard hide nor hair of anyone, although he’d never found anything powerful to reach the other side of the Earth. Even then, he still knew. He had been alone. Completely, totally, unfortunately, alone.

And it would happen again if he didn’t fix it.

Nothing would protect them. Certainly not a wooden shack.

He took his eyes off the building to scan the streets, partially to monitor potential threats but also to remind himself of everything there was to lose if he failed.

Six days from then, someone or something would wipe out everything. All these people milling around, going about their ordinary lives, would be obliterated.

Five wasn’t sure if it was a blessing or a curse that most of them didn’t know, but he doubted anyone would believe him even if he stood on top of the van right then and started screaming the truth from the top of his lungs. Vanya hadn’t believed him after all; his most trusted friend, a woman who had called him her closest confidant in her book - yet as soon as he told her his story she presumed the worst.

“In fairness you are mad.” Delores said. 

“You’re too kind.” He snarked in return, no real heat behind his words. 

No. Two days in and he knew there was no choice but to do this alone. He could convince them of the truth later, ideally when he had killed the culprit - their lunacy finally put a stop to - and destroyed whatever device it was which had brought such destruction. When he found out who the eye belonged to, tracked down everyone involved in the plot and killed them to save billions.

There would still be the matter of the Commission after that, but if he could at least convince his siblings of the truth there was always a chance he would finally have them on his side in that coming war.

Five snorted.

And what a team they would be. A movie star who refuses to use her powers. A drug addict who can barely distinguish hallucination from reality. A self-absorbed janitor. A glitching robot strong enough to snap most of her children's necks. An experiment gone wrong which still shows disturbing loyalty to its creator. And whatever Pogo was. Never mind his best friend; the powerless one, the one who always wanted to help - always ready to listen except for the one time he desperately needed her to. 

“I’ll look after her.” Delores promised.

Five shot her a grin through the rear-view mirror.

“Isn’t that your mark?” She asked.

He snapped back to attention, eyes swivelling forward to carefully watch the front door.

“Yeah, that’s him.” Five muttered, bringing his hands up - further up than he liked - to grab the steering wheel in preparation. 

Five watched him climb into his car as he put the van into gear.

“Let’s see where he’s going.” He said, mind slipping back to where it was needed.

Only six days left, then everything would be over.

Soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it’s short, it’s the best I could do without my computer. I had to write something though as I was starting to go a bit stir crazy not having any way to write - it’s pretty much my main hobby. All of you keep your fingers crossed that it gets fixed because I’d started a new TUA story that I really hope hasn’t been lost! And always let me know what you think. The next chapter will be much longer, I promise <3


	4. Summer 2002

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the repeated 2002, Vanya and Five spend their free week a little differently.

The children, for perhaps the first time in their renewed childhood, spent their breakfast with their eyes trained firmly on their plates.

Usually they would take the opportunity of Reginald’s fixed concentrated on his morning meal to shoot significant looks at one another, attempt to make the others laugh and break rank by pulling funny faces, kick their neighbour under the table for being annoying or swap food they didn’t like.

Today they knew if they made eye contact with anyone else their smiles would be impossible to contain and that would raise more questions than they could risk.

It took all their will power, a particularly impressive feat for Klaus Five thought, not to holler once Reginald rose to his feet to make the long-anticipated announcement.

“Children.” He started. “I have been summoned on unexpected business out of state. Until I return, Pogo and Grace will be responsible for your care. I trust my absence will not affect your individual studies and training regimens. Trust that I will be closely monitoring your progress while I am gone, and punishments will be given accordingly if any of you think my absence is in some way a permission to commit infractions.”

Pogo stepped forward, giving the same assurances to Reginald he had given in every incarnation of that moment, that nothing out of the ordinary would happen in the Academy under his watch and that he would maintain discipline amongst the students.

Still the children’s gazes stayed pointedly away from one another, not daring to glance any way other than forward until they were dismissed and their adopted Father left for the week long business trip they had all been counting down to over the past several months.

They had already formed plans for that week of temporary, if still somewhat limited, freedom; plans that Five was acutely aware rested heavily on Allison’s promises to use her power for personal gain one more time. Something she wasn’t thrilled about, but the thought of being able to actively do something which would make Vanya happy had eventually swayed her.

Five watched Vanya try to conjure a face she imagined she would have originally made in that moment, avoiding the glances of most of her siblings to look at Five. Only then did she produce a genuine smile.

“Children. Gather in the hall.” Pogo instructed as they rose from the table.

Filing into the room by rank, they stood in a line, faces passive as they watched Reginald leave the Academy. He made no attempts at goodbyes and for once neither did any of the children.

Even Luther stayed quiet, where before he would have wished Reginald a good trip.

Things really _were_ changing. It would be another fifteen years or so however before they would know whether it was for the better.

“Time for lessons.”

It wasn’t but Pogo wouldn’t know that for another minute.

“Children,” Pogo said, his tone deepening as he attempted to sound authoritative, “move along to your scheduled lesson with Grace.”

Klaus elbowed Allison sharply in the ribs. With a resigned sigh she glided forward, the rumour she had planned out with Luther and Five memorised and poised on her tongue.

“I heard a rumour,” Allison said, swallowing guiltily as she watched Pogo’s eyes widen, “that you let us do anything we want this week and lie in your reports to Reginald to protect us.”

A white film washed over Pogo’s large eyes as the rumour took its hold over him. Powerless to resist it, already forgetting that he had been rumoured into action at all, Pogo wandered off to tamper with Grace’s programming and edit the video tapes – necessary actions to meet Allison’s command to protect them from Reginald.

“Last one.” Allison muttered to herself, leaning gratefully into Luther as he came to rest a hand on her shoulder.

Klaus looked at them all, a broad grin blossoming as the rest fidgeted uncomfortably with deceiving Pogo. Only Five matched it, though Klaus’ enthusiasm quickly eclipsed his own as he began to whoop and jump around the room.

“ _YES_! FREEDOM _bitches_!” He shouted, bouncing over to leap on Ben as his words reverberated around the vast room.

“Get off me you lunatic.” Ben grumbled, but his words were belied as his arms rose to return the hug.

“Let’s get the fuck out of here.” Diego said, gladly slapping the hand Klaus offered up top before jogging over to the stairs. “After I ditch this _stupid_ uniform.”

“Two, we can’t go far.” Allison weakly pointed out. “We look – we _are_ kids.”

“I’ll be back before breakfast.” Diego promised, running for his room.

Five tugged on Vanya’s arm and started to lead her upstairs too.

“Wait!” Allison said, before he could even get Vanya on the first step.

Running forward, Allison drew Vanya into a tight hug. “Have a good week you two.”

“We’ll see you soon, Three.” Vanya mumbled around Allison’s hair, confused by her sister’s actions. While Allison had stepped up the affection since they’d returned to the past, she’d been careful not to pressure Vanya too much into the close relationship she desperately wanted. Especially after her conversation with Vanya and Five the other week over breakfast.

Allison smiled as she drew back, not saying another word.

Five, ignoring Vanya’s attempt to stay where she was to ask Allison about what she meant, dragged her firmly along. They were on a tight schedule and couldn’t afford to wait around.

Pushing her into the bedroom, he told her to wait where she was while he went to retrieve everything they would need.

“Need? What do we _need_?” Vanya whined, wanting to be told what was happening. “I thought we would do what we did last time and go to the park in Brooklyn?”

“We can’t practice your powers in a public park, Seven.” Five pointed out, rolling his eyes.

“So where are we going?”

“Away.” Five said flatly, not giving the game away just yet. Childish though it was, he was set on it being a surprise. He was _technically_ a child anyway, so it gave him the right.

“ _Where_?”

Five chuckled at her. “For once if your life, relax. I’ve got it all planned, you don’t need to do anything except tag along for the ride.” He tilted his head. “Well _and_ use your powers. But we probably won’t have time for that until this evening or tomorrow. Long drive ahead of us.”

Vanya’s eyebrows disappeared beneath her hair. “Drive? We’re _driving_. _How_ – we don’t even have a car?”

“When has that ever stopped me?” Five pointed out, his foot tapping with impatience. “Grab anything you need, but don’t bother with any clothes. They’ll stand out too much. I’ve got stuff for us to take.”

“ _What_?” Vanya said, her voice getting sharper with every futile question she attempted to get an answer for.

His eyes would fall out of his head that week, he was sure of it, as they rolled again.

“Fine. Come with me then.” Five said, giving up. Grabbing her wrist he pulled her through the portal he formed.

“Now,” he warned, ignoring her small fumble as they landed, “you’d better not tell anyone else about this place. It’s a secret.”

Crouching down, he removed the loose stone from beneath the greenhouse workbench to reveal his secret hideaway space.

First, he pulled out the go-bag which contained the clothes he had stolen from Good Will and some valuables of Reginald’s which could be sold off if they were ever in a pinch. He also grabbed the notebook Vanya had provided him with, but took care to leave the thermos out of sight – not wanting to encourage any judgement from her for continuing to drink in his younger, and slightly more susceptible, body.

He handed Vanya the notebook to hold on to while he slung the bag over his shoulder and started to cover up his tracks. When he finished replacing the stone and distributing the dirt evenly around it (there was never any room for carelessness after all), Five turned to grab hold of Vanya to take her back to the bedrooms but paused when he caught her staring down at a picture he had thought was tucked into one of his other books.

Snatching it from her hands, he shoved the picture in his back pocket and teleported her without another word.

Grabbing some clothes out of the bag for himself, he told her she had five minutes before he’d come back to get her. Once he was inside his room, it only took him a moment to change into a shirt and jeans, but in fairness to Vanya she wasn’t routinely timed like the rest of them so he turned his attention to the map he had secured to plan their route while he waited for her.

They would have to stop at a gas station on their way there and back by his calculations; luckily he had enough petty cash in his collection to cover their expenses for the week.

It only took him a minute to refresh his memory of their planned journey. Five spent the remaining three minutes glancing at his bedroom clock every other second.

When her time was up, he jumped back into her room to find her sitting patiently on the bed. The bag was neatly repacked, Vanya having selected some leggings and a long purple shirt for the trip.

“Don’t you want a jacket?” Five asked, ruining Vanya’s organisation by rooting through the bag to pull one out.

“Don’t start that again.” She huffed. “It’s summer anyway, why would I need a jacket?”

“Suit yourself.” Five shrugged. “Let’s get going.”

Picking up her violin case, Vanya let him take it off her after a second of intense eye contact wore her down.

“I’m not an invalid you know, I can carry a bag.” She said as she handed it over, watching him sling the two bags over his shoulder.

“Chivalry isn’t dead you know, Ven.”

He grinned at her sigh, leading their way out of the house.

With Pogo rumoured, Grace occupied, and the cameras reprogrammed, they were free to use the front door but Five still ushered them down the fire escape. It was the most expedient way to the car.

Vanya humoured him without a word, having become more confident using the ladder since they’d started training her powers.

At the top of the alley was the car he had purchased three nights ago, when he’d jumped from the Academy in the middle of the night to a chop shop he knew was disreputable enough to accept cash from a pre-teen wanting to buy a car he shouldn’t even know how to drive.

He’d replaced the licence plates two nights ago with ones he had ordered under an old identity. It was a gamble as the Commission would know about his former aliases, but he’d utilised his training to make the transaction as difficult to track as possible.

Popping open the boot, which was already packed with bottled water and some dried food, he smirked even wider than before when he took in Vanya’s startled expression.

“Wait, you actually own this?” She said with amazement, eying the keys in his hand.

“I bought it.” Five answered.

She was clever enough to know the car she was getting into wasn’t legally owned, but she did so anyway with no further comment.

“How long is the drive?” Vanya queried as she pulled on her seatbelt. Usually Five wouldn’t bother, but he didn’t want to discourage her from keeping herself safe, so he snapped himself in too.

“A few hours.” Five replied. “You can put on the radio if you want. Or once we get out on the highway you could lie on the backseat and have a nap?”

“Maybe.” She said, glancing around at the car as Five started the engine and took them out of the alley. “Did you clean the car?”

“Only a little. Why, is it not clean enough?” Five asked, looking sharply at her seat to see if he had missed anything. The guy who sold it to him said the only person who died in the car was murdered in the driver’s seat, so there shouldn’t be anything there. He’d been thorough.

Vanya smiled at him broadly, the growing sense of freedom bubbling within as they left the Academy behind them was making her feel suddenly ecstatic. “No, it’s nice. What are you going to do with it after we get back?”

“I can’t keep it if that’s what you mean. I’ll drive it a few blocks over, remove the license plates, leave it unlocked – then it’s someone else’s problem.”

“You’ve really thought of everything.”

“I try to.” Five agreed, keeping his eyes on the road when he wanted to keep looking at her. He was sure it wouldn’t be exaggerating to say that eighty percent of conversations with Vanya played out in her facial expressions. He would be at a disadvantage for most of the drive.

“Don’t know why I’m surprised,” Vanya huffed, leaning more comfortably into her seat as Five drove for the bridge, “you’re good at everything, right?”

Grinning, he agreed but only said, “If you say so.”

They passed out of the city in comfortable silence, Five glancing her way every now and then to make sure she was okay. It was only when they broke out of the peripheries that Vanya rolled down her window and started talking again.

“I feel kinda bad you know.”

“About blowing up the moon?” Five teased.

Vanya stuck her tongue out at him. “No,” she rolled her eyes, “well _yes_ , but what I was going to say was...”

“You feel bad about vomiting on my shoes last week?”

She sighed. “Not in the slightest, you should have warned me we were about to jump. We’d only just eaten.”

“You need to be prepared.” Five defended, smiling all the while.

“I need to eat too.” Vanya retorted.

“Well at least you’re picking up something from our lessons then.” He grumbled good naturedly. “There are some cereal bars in the glove compartment by the way.”

“I’m good.”

“Well I’m not. Hand me one over.”

“You shouldn’t eat while you’re driving. You’re meant to keep your hands at ten and two.” Vanya pointed out as she placed the snack in his hand. “Or was it nine and three?”

“You could always feed it to me if you think that’s safer.” Five offered, knowing full well how she’d answer.

“I trust you to manage on your own.”

Sometimes she could be so predictable.

“What I was trying to say anyway, before you decided to be annoying, was that I feel bad about leaving the others behind.”

So, so predictable.

“It wouldn’t be a very productive training session with them around, would it? Since you’re still lying to them.” He pointed out, not sugar coating the facts.

“I know.” She sighed. “But it’s my fault they’ve been cooped up in that house all these months. You too. I don’t know how I will ever make it up to you all.”

“You can get a good handle on your powers so you can protect us all when the Commission inevitably catch us up and try to murder us all.”

“So not much then.”

Five took a hand off the wheel to poke Vanya in her side. “I thought you said I was amazing?”

“I never used the word _amazing_...”

“If I can do anything, I can be an excellent teacher and have you in top fighting form in no time.” He finished confidently. Really, he was certain things wouldn’t be that simple, not with the temperamental nature of Vanya’s powers. Even with improved maturity from that of when she was four, it was going to be a challenge.

But life would be boring if it was easy.

“ _Right_?” Five prompted when Vanya stayed quiet too long. “Or are you being quiet because you’re trying to come up with a nice way to tell me I’m a moron?”

He didn’t have to look to know she was smiling, it was clear in her voice as she replied to him: “No. You’re not a moron Five.”

“And the opposite of a moron is...”

“...a genius.” She finished for him, beaming from ear to ear when he peeked at her. “Do you really think I can learn how to use my powers properly? _All_ of them?”

“Yes.” Five replied immediately, not wanting her to feel insecure for even another second. “You can do anything you set your mind to. Providing you have my help that is.”

Vanya shoved him back playfully. He barely budged, but he still told her to watch it.

“I thought you were the safety conscious one. Do you want me to drive us off the road and into a ditch?”

His only response was a laugh.

“But seriously, Five. What are the others going to do this weekend? I know Diego said he was going out for the day but...how is it fair that we’re the only two who get to properly escape?”

Immediately his brain provided him with the answer life is never fair, but he had enough lingering sanity to prevent him from saying that aloud.

“They’ll take it in turns going out. Diego and Klaus are going first today – with Ben supervising – while Allison and Luther stay with Mom. Pogo won’t deactivate her, so she still needs to engage with some of us so her activity records look fairly normal. They have a whole rota worked out.

“Besides, it’s not like they’ll complain to _me_. I saved their lives.”

They had complained actually. Quite a lot and quite predictably. Luckily and _unexpectedly_ , he now seemed to have most of his siblings on side and Allison and Ben had quickly corralled the even numbers to accept their plan. Luther had even sacrificed one of his planned days off to them to secure their agreement.

“Still,” Vanya mumbled, mainly talking to herself, “I should do something for them when we get back. Maybe I could bake something?”

“If they’re really put out, I’ll let them take the car for a joy ride.” Five shrugged. “But I wouldn’t worry yourself over it, Vanya.”

They passed a road sign which showed they were heading north.

“Are we leaving the state?” Vanya asked, eyeing it warily as her anxiety slowly bubbled beyond the confines of her careful control. “Should we be going this far? What if there’s an emergency and the others need us? And didn’t you say we needed to be careful and stick to the original timeline as much as possible? Won’t the Commission notice you taking me out on a field trip?”

“Vanya, breathe.” He encouraged, his command only slightly sarcastic. “I told you, I’ve thought of everything.”

“ _Well_?”

Five pinched the bridge of his nose. “Well what?”

“What if we need to get back? And keep your eyes on the road!”

“I’ve mapped several places on the map which I can jump to in order to return to the Academy. Ideally I’ll bring you along but it depends how much energy it takes out of me.” Five explained, bringing his hands back to the wheel. “I got a burner phone and gave Allison the number.”

“And the Commission?”

“They’re not watching us every minute of every day. As long as we don’t draw attention to ourselves, we’ll be fine.”

“And you don’t think me using my other power’s will do that?”

“They’re not meteorologists, Vanya.” He dismissed, knowing he wasn’t doing a very good job of allaying her fears. “Are you really just worried about the others and the Commission?”

When she didn’t answer he looked over to find her gnawing on her fingernails. As soon as he caught her, Vanya wove her fingers together and placed them in her lap.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s all right to be worried about using your other powers. I know you’ve got a great handle on the hearing...”

“I’m _okay_ at it, I wouldn’t say great.” Vanya contradicted.

“...And you’re making good progress with the telekinesis, even if we are only using light objects for practice at the moment...”

“Until I lose concentration, then I nearly break windows.”

“...But we’ve had little chance to work on your atmokinesis or energy generation...”

“Rain and death ray making.” She simplified with a sigh.

“... _So_ ,” Five emphasised, raising his voice to drown out her self-deprecation, “I can understand why you might be nervous about this week.”

While she wasn’t chewing the ends of her fingers, when he glanced her way again he found her try to pick off the skin surrounding her nails and hastily reached out to put an end to it before she tore through flesh.

“Hey.” He called, lacing their hands together. “I’ll be with you every step of the way, okay?”

Her head thumped against the headrest. “ _Okay_.”

“Geesh, Vanya. Don’t sound _too_ happy.”

“I am happy you’re here with me, Five.” Vanya said, squeezing his hand for emphasis. “This week and every other.”

He had to roll his eyes at her sentimentality but he griped her hand tightly in return. The road was straight, he didn’t need both of them on the wheel, anyway.

“You want to listen to the radio now?” Five asked.

“If it works.” Vanya agreed, her head lolling on the seat so she could look at him.

“Of course it works, why would I buy a defective vehicle?” Five snorted.

“What kind of music do you even like?”

“Whatever’s on.”

It was Vanya’s turn to snort. “Very insightful. Come on – do you have a favourite singer?”

“No.”

“Favourite band?”

“No.”

“Favourite genre?”

“No _p_ e.” Five replied, drawing out the p.

“Fine. What about a decade? You’ve travelled around a lot, was there a certain decade where you thought the music sounded good?”

“I didn’t exactly linger, Vanya. I was always on assignment.”

She let out a quiet sigh of dissatisfaction and Five groaned in response. “Fine – the fifties – I _guess_. If you put a gun to my head.”

“Any song in particular?” Vanya prodded, pushing her luck.

“I couldn’t name one even if I wanted to.”

“I bet if you sing it to me I can tell you what it is.”

Five gave her the sternest look he could manage when she was smiling at him like an idiot. “I _will_ pull this car over.”

Raising her free hand in surrender, Vanya let the subject drop. Once his eyes were back on the road, she reached forward to start the stereo and fiddle with the dial.

“I think there’s a classical station on...”

“I know which frequency the classical stations are on – although maybe not once we get out of range.” Vanya assured, settling on a rock station instead. “This _may_ shock you to know, but just because I play the violin it doesn’t mean I only like classical music.”

“I thought you might like some jazz,” Five mused, having heard her play some rather upbeat numbers on her new piano, “maybe blues, but I never considered rock.”

“Hmm, guess you don’t know everything do you?” Vanya joked. “I’ll even tell you something else you don’t know – I used to play the guitar.”

“You did not.” Five scoffed, trying to picture his violin playing, Beethoven, Bach and Brahms loving best friend playing the guitar and coming up empty.

“I did!”

“Like Reginald would let you get a guitar.”

Vanya twisted in her seat to properly face him, her seatbelt digging uncomfortably into her collarbone as she did but she ignored it. “We were older by then, he barely noticed me. And I didn’t have to _ask_ him for it, I earned the money myself and learnt when the house was empty.”

“Were you any good?” Five asked, still struggling to picture Vanya rocking out.

“It’s not that hard when you’ve been playing the violin for a decade first. The chords were different, sure, but I already had the calluses so that was an advantage.”

She watched him with a smirk. “You don’t believe me, do you?”

“I have no reason to think you would lie about it.” Five dispelled. “It’s just hard to imagine is all.”

He checked the dashboard and realised they would have to come to a stop soon. “Do you need anything while we’re here?”

“No, I’m good.”

“You sure you don’t need the toilet.”

“I’m _fine_ , Five.” Vanya assured, swivelling to face the front properly while he got out to refill the tank.

The clerk gave him a great deal of side eye while he paid but, after glancing down at his sharp smile, he decided not to comment on the pre-teen buying gas.

Vanya had her eyes closed when he returned to the car, either enjoying the music on the radio or lightly dozing, so Five decided to stay quiet and not disturb her.

There wasn’t much further to go.

* * *

Ignoring the public car park, Five drove on through the winding lanes until he came to the turnoff he only vaguely remembered now. The ravages of time didn’t help much; the painted sign that used to point towards the cabin was now faded to near non-existence and the private road had since had a gate placed across it.

Taking care not to slam the door too heavily as he exited the vehicle, lest he disturb Vanya ahead of the surprise, Five climbed out to pick the lock and pocketed the chain. He’d walk back once they were settled in to replace it.

To his surprise, when they pulled up outside the cabin, it was in a better condition than he had expected. At first glance the wooden porch didn’t appear too badly rotted by nearly eighty years of rain, but then he had popped back occasionally (when his missions permitted) to touch up the property with varnish and the replacement of boards when required.

Hopefully the interior would be all right too. From the front it didn’t appear as though any windows were broken, and he had put enough small traps around the foundations to catch any small animals trying to nest within.

Getting out of the car, Five popped open the trunk so he could retrieve the keys from his bag. He closed it with a heavy thunk, enough to jostle Vanya awake.

He found her wearily rubbing her eyes when he rounded her side of the car and opened the door for her.

“Good afternoon. Nice nap?”

“You shouldn’t have let me sleep for so long.” Vanya rasped, exiting on slightly unsteady legs into the bright afternoon sun.

Five took a firm hold of her shoulders and twisted her so she could see the cabin. “We’re here. What do you think?”

Vanya glanced around, at everything but the house. “Where are we?”

“Up north. No one around for miles.”

“I don’t understand,” Vanya said, twisting out of his grasp to face him, “whose house is this?”

“Mine.” Five shrugged.

She turned back to look at the house more closely. While she did, Five grabbed their bags and headed up the steps.

“Mind that fourth step,” he called out behind him, “it feels a little unsteady to me.”

Unlocking the door, Five noted the near empty living room and winced a little at how painfully bare it looked with fresh eyes. Realistically he couldn’t have left furniture there, not without an inhabitant around to maintain it. The wooden chair looked okay, perhaps in need of a good coat of varnish, but if he’d left anything soft in there, it would have been nothing more than a lump of mould by now.

“Sorry there’s not much in here, I couldn’t risk storing too much in here.” Five apologised as he sensed Vanya move inside. “There’s bed frames in the bedrooms, but I’m not sure how well they’ll have held up, and there're no mattresses on them, anyway. So I brought sleeping bags.”

“That’s okay.” Vanya said, her voice still sounding slightly scratchy from her nap. “It’s lovely.”

Five snorted. “Maybe one day, when I can spend more than a few hours here and can fix it up.”

“When did you buy it?”

“1930s.” Five said, not seeing Vanya’s comically surprised face as he busied himself depositing her things in the larger bedroom. “Your bed frame looks all right, you can put your sleeping bag on it if you like.”

“Wow.” Vanya breathed, following him in and immediately crossing to the windows which showed the back of the property. “You’re right, we are out here all alone. Look at those trees, they must be ancient.”

“There’s a lake nearby too.”

“A lake?” She muttered, her brain slowly producing an old memory.

“Yeah, we’ll go out there this week. It’s not popular with tourists, a bit too far away from anything of significance, so we’ll have a good amount of privacy out there.” Five said, waffling on needlessly.

“That looks like a mountain in the west?” Vanya said, pointing out the window.

“Sure, but I don’t think it’s a good idea to go hiking up any.”

Vanya turned to him, her eyes wide and a smile blooming. She wanted to hug him but she also wanted to ask – to know: “Somewhere we can be alone, with trees, mountains and a lake?”

“That’s what you wanted, right?” Five agreed, happy and alarmed that she had remembered his promise so quickly after so much time. She must have been so disappointed when he didn’t live up to it the first time around.

He picked his bag up from off the floor and started towards the spare room, but Vanya stopped him with a hand.

“You bought yourself a house in exactly the place I always wanted to run away to?”

“There were a lot of places that met your parameters, Vanya...”

She tugged him into a hug and, to his horror, started sniffling in his collar.

“What, is it not right?”

Tightening her grip she murmured into his jacket; he couldn’t hear a word.

“What – Vanya, speak up.”

Resting her chin on his shoulder, he heard her say: “It’s perfect. I love it.”

Five laughed to lighten the mood, for once wanting to spurn Vanya’s hug as it felt a little too cloying. “ _Perfect_? It will be a miracle if we don’t find a raccoon in the toilet. Speaking of which, we don’t even have running water. I’d have to connect us to the mains...”

“Still perfect.” Vanya said, squeezing him one more time before letting go.

“I’ll go put my bag in the other room.” Five said, grabbing his stuff and one of the sleeping bags. Vanya stopped him again.

“We’re not sharing? After you’ve told me there might be rogue racoons in our house?”

Rolling his eyes, Five still left his sleeping bag behind when he went to put his clothes away in the second room’s dresser. After that he unpacked the food and water from the car into the kitchen cupboards and started making sandwiches, trying not to linger on the notion that he was now living in _their_ house for the next week.

“Can I help?” Vanya said, coming to hover beside him after she’d finished looking around the place.

“You can bring the other chair to the table.” Five offered, deciding it was the safest task to offer her. He only had a hunting knife to use in the kitchen after all, and he’d sharpened it last night.

“Wow, I couldn’t carry a bag earlier but now you’re letting me move an entire chair!” Vanya mocked, still following his request.

“So what’s the plan?” She asked once they were both seated and eating their snack. “I guess you have one?”

“I have a rough idea, but nothing too concrete. We’ll see how you respond to certain tasks then modify them accordingly.”

“Where do we start?”

“It’s meant to be a clear evening. I thought we could hike over to the lake once we’ve finished eating, if you’re not too tired? Practice out there for an hour or two then head back before it gets dark. The sun shouldn’t set until eight or nine, but we need to get back to the cabin before nightfall. The paths aren’t illuminated.”

“Hike?” Vanya said with a touch of nervousness.

“Don’t worry, I didn’t let you fall the last time we went hiking.”

“That wasn’t a _hike_ , we were just walking around a park.”

“And you could barely stay upright during that.” Five pointed out with a smirk. “I had to stop you falling face first into the mud at least half a dozen times.”

“I wasn’t that bad!” She protested, her uneasiness overwritten by a newly developed rebelliousness Five was thoroughly enjoying see emerge. “Maybe _once_ , and that’s _only_ because Dad had increased my dosage. I could barely walk!”

“I remember.” Five muttered into a bite of his sandwich.

“But I’m not on them now, and I can hike just _fine_.” Vanya finished stubbornly, polishing off her sandwich with one large mouthful.

“Glad to hear it.” Five said, finishing his third sandwich off with an even bigger bite. “Shall we?”

Five took a few knives and a bottle of water but left everything else in the cabin. It had withstood eight decades, it should be fine for a few more hours.

“I can carry...”

Ignoring Vanya’s offer, Five hooked the bottle on the waist of his trousers. “I’d rather you keep your hands free.” He said dryly.

Narrowing her eyes at him, Vanya lightly made her way down the steps and promptly took off in the wrong direction.

“Are you heading back to the interstate for any reason?” Five called to her back. Without missing a beat, she turned on her heel and headed for the correct trail.

“I know I’m not the most sociable of our siblings, but I thought you’d be able to handle at least a _few_ hours with only me for company.”

Vanya playfully knocked her body into his side, barely moving him a step sideways. “Your company has been perfectly tolerable.”

Laughing, Five pulled Vanya’s arm to make her slow her pace. “It’s only a thirty minute hike but we’ll have to go up an incline before we get there, so save your energy.”

To his surprise, she handled the hill easily. Perhaps the reduction in her pill intake had buoyed her energy levels, he mused as she took the lead.

With the water in sight, Vanya hastened through the remaining brambles to reach the lake’s edge.

“This place is incredible.” Vanya breathed, inhaling a lungful of clean mountain air. “How did you find it?”

“Commission.” Five shrugged. “They sent me out on assignment here, to the next town over. I always kept an eye out for things I could invest my wages in and saw this place advertised in an agent’s window.”

“What did the Commission send you out here for?”

Flinching, Five ignored her question (not wanting to go into any detail about his life as an assassin with her) in favour of clearing some bush from the water’s edge with his knife so they could sit more comfortably.

Noting that in future he should perhaps bring a blanket, Five sat on the slightly damp grass and gestured to Vanya that she should do the same.

“You can tell me you know.” Vanya said as she dropped opposite him, not letting the subject drop. “I don’t mind hearing about it. And it’s not like I can judge. I’m sure my death count eclipses yours.”

It was funny how it both pleased and irked him that Vanya was increasingly reluctant to back down – always pushing for answers, for _more_ – and yet, somehow, she was always so nice, so polite, while she did it. No – it was hypocritical really – not funny. He wanted to know everything about her, but he never wanted to share about himself in return.

It was a wonder she put up with him; the murderous lunatic he now was.

“No?” Vanya continued, watching his face closely. “Okay. How about the picture then?”

She reached forward, a hand nearing his pocket which Five shrunk back from.

“I didn’t mean to look, but you passed it to me. And I’ve seen it now, so can’t you just tell me why you have it?”

Five looked out over the lake, noting that it looked a little cloudy on the horizon. “How did you feel when you made it rain?”

Leaning away, Vanya sighed but answered his question. “Angry. Hurt.”

“How do you feel now?”

“Annoyed.”

Nodding, Five told her to lean into that feeling. “Try using your memories – think about times when you felt really angry.”

“I never felt angry on my pills.” Vanya huffed. “I felt numb.”

“You still felt things Vanya. Don’t try to push that away.” Five encouraged. “I know you had feelings back then, I could see that.”

“Not strongly. And when I did...it was usually only bad.”

After spurning her touch before, Five now wanted to reach out but he couldn’t.

He didn’t really want to make her hurt and angry, there were too many people that already did that to their Number Seven, but it was necessary. She needed to learn control, and she’d never learn control if they didn’t know what emotions and stimuli she needed to invoke the desired power.

“When you made it rain, was there any sound that seemed loud to you? Something that you were, _unknowingly_ , using to activate your atmokinesis?”

“My heartbeat, but...” Vanya shook her head, “...that’s the sound I used when I blew the door off the cage at the house. I need to stick to safer sounds.”

“Vanya,” Five soothed, “no one else is here. Look around us.”

She did as he asked, but her eyes quickly clapped onto him. “You’re here.”

“I can jump out the way.”

“You didn’t jump out of the way in time at the Icarus.” Vanya pointed out.

“I’m not leaving you.” Five insisted. “I’m staying right here, and I’m going to help you.”

“If we’re doing something this stupid,” Vanya persevered, her voice more adamant than Five had ever heard it, “you’ll help me from a distance.”

“ _Vanya_...”

“Five.”

He looked at her in disbelief but he was met with steely resolve. “A metre.” Five proposed.

“Ten.” She pointed off a ways to the spot she wanted him to go to. “You can go stand over there. And if things get too wild...”

With a sigh, Five told her he would jump out of harm’s way – knowing full well that if it came to that he wouldn’t.

“Wave at me if you need me to come back.” Five said, waiting until she gave him a verbal sign of agreement before he jumped to her chosen position.

From a distance, Five watched Vanya take a tentative step towards the lake edge, observing how the wind whipped up around her as she cautiously allowed the sound she now feared most in the world come to the forefront of her mind. As the wind grew more violent, it began to twist out in an arm away from her until it soon ruffled his own hair.

With Vanya’s hands clenched and eyes firmly screwed shut, he wondered if she could even hear the howls the coiling air started to produce, her heartbeat drowning it out, or if the sound fed into her powers making the effects even stronger.

The clouds he had seen before on the horizon overtook them earlier than they should have done, blotting out the summer sun, and yet not dampening the warmth in the atmosphere. If anything the heat seemed to grow along with the wind.

As rain began to dot, Five watched Vanya take another blind step forward. The water must have seeped quickly into the cheap trainers he had found for her, but she kept walking regardless – not noticing or not caring about the lake water rising along her calves as she stepped ever further. When it reached her knees she stopped, her body seemingly powerless against itself as she swayed lazily to the swirling gales that encircled them, her ears deaf to the first crash of lightning that made Five jump with surprise.

The rain pelted with a stronger intensity, Five uselessly raising his hands to it while Vanya contentedly stood getting drenched to the bone – almost unaware of it, unaware of anything outside the rising tempo of her heart. The air still swirled around her, picking up the strands of her hair in a wild tussle, casting a dark halo behind her head that was occasionally coloured gold with the light of the electricity she had generated in the atmosphere.

Circling ever tighter to her body, with a gasp Vanya’s eyes opening and the coiling wind seemed to suddenly and violently break away from her. It tore across the lake, causing a large wave to travel with it, its tight twist that rose near heavenwards slowly loosening as it moved away from its power source – ultimately dissipating as it hit the opposing shore and fiercely collided with the trees.

It was a large lake, yet even Five’s weak ears could pick up the resounding crunch, snap and groan that resounded around them as the opposing trees splintered and fell.

The sounds made Vanya flinch, and she weakly beckoned him with a hand. He caught her before she could fall into the waiting water, pulling her limp body up into his arms.

“ _Vanya_?” He said in as gentle a tone as his panicked brain could produce.

Her white eyes rolled in the back of her head for a moment but she soon refocused on him, trembling lightly. “I still have too much energy.” She gritted out through clenched teeth.

“Release it.” Five urged. “There’s no one here – it’s fine.”

She shook her head, raising a hand that was tinged a bluish white. “Here.”

Laying her palm on his cheek, Five felt the blood thrash through his veins with a greater intensity than it ever had and in a manoeuvre that barely used up an iota of the energy Vanya had just given him, Five took them back to their home in a single jump.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So originally I had planned to show the whole week Vanya and Five are at the cabin in this one chapter, before I realised that would be insane. I've now decided the next story in the series will now be about their week instead of what I originally had planned. If you even noticed the story info in your rush to read this (:P), you'll see I have increased this story to five chapters. Now don't get too excited because the fifth is just an epilogue, an after-credits scene if you will. I aim to post it this weekend although I now have to make amendments to a paper for this online course I'm doing, so we'll see how long that takes me!
> 
> As always let me know what you thought and thanks for all your patience, I know it took me a while to update <3


	5. Epilogue: New Year’s Eve 2001

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Epilogue. Or in my mind, an after-credit scene. Set after chapter 1.

Pogo plodded faithfully behind Sir Reginald – always at his elbow, never at his side – with an attaché case in hand containing identification, a notepad and pen.

It wasn’t often he strayed beyond the confines of the Academy and when he did, it was always with Sir Reginald present. A fortunate arrangement really, as Sir Reginald always drew the attention of the room. With anyone else at his side, Pogo would be the one of most interest and become the focus of unwanted attention. Here, as they walked along the lengthy corridors, the eyes of the guards who lined it remained principally on Sir Reginald – the architect of this establishment and the composer of the Umbrella Academy and all its feats.

The prison guards who watched their progress were newly hired, smartly dressed, their uniforms crisp, their eyes vigilant. While there was currently only one prisoner, they were fully staffed and trained to monitor the worst of the worst.

It’s inaugural inmate was the Umbrella Academy’s latest conquest.

Mr Frank Phillips was its prison warden, his career history classified to even Sir Reginald. He stood primly, waiting for them before the gate, which would lead to the corridor, which would lead to the prison cell they had arranged to visit.

“Sir Reginald.” He nodded, his eyes briefly flickering to Pogo – no doubt wondering if he should be in one of the empty cells that surrounded them – before focusing permanently on Reginald.

“ _Mr_ Phillips.” Sir Reginald said dryly, looking down his nose at the slightly shorter man.

To Mr Phillips his tone might sound as though he was sneering at his rank, but Pogo knew Sir Reginald’s real irritation lied in the mystery behind his character. A competent and experienced man he must be to be considered for such a role, a formidable one to receive it. And Sir Reginald did not like to be around formidable people whose pasts were left mysterious to him; the depths of which he could not delve into and familiarise himself with.

“Would you care to follow me?” Mr Phillips offered, stiffly turning on his heel without waiting for their affirmative.

“You have permission from the Commissioner to interview the inmate for _precisely_ five minutes. Not a second more, not a second less.”

“I will require more time if you expect me to extract the results you desire.” Reginald calmly remarked.

“I have been given my orders, Sir Reginald. If you have any complaints, I suggest you take them up with the Commissioner. Perhaps,” he said, unclipping a ring of keys from his belt, “ _after_ you have achieved something to prove your repeated presence here could be of value to us.”

Reginald’s back was to Pogo, but he had no doubt his lip was curling.

“This institution would not exist without me.” He protested.

“No, it wouldn’t.” Mr Phillips sighed resignedly.

Drawing back the door, Mr Phillips ushered them inside before locking them in. For the next five minutes, no one would see the ongoings of that room other than its occupant, Reginald and Pogo.

“Ah, Sir Reginald. Such a pleasure.” Dr Terminal rasped from his sick bed, the beeping of his heart monitors the only sign upon their first entering that the shrivelled man upon it was even alive.

There were no restraints to bind him there; without his suit the disease had continued its consumption of his body. The man barely had the strength to raise a hand to his mouth to stifle the cough which racked his entire frame. An escape attempt would be futile.

“Dr Terminal.” Reginald replied, taking a seat at his bedside.

There was only the one chair, so Pogo remained standing by the door. He unlocked the attaché case to pull out his pen and paper, ready to take notes when directed.

“So lovely to see you last week.” Terminal said. “It was a pity your playthings cut my visit short before I could give you my undivided attention, but the most delicious of snacks sidetracked me. You’ll forgive me, I presume – after all, what man could resist such an appetising dish?”

His leering was cut short by another flinch-inducing cough.

“Yes,” Reginald said, ignoring the man’s suffering while Pogo hastened to get him a drink of water, “I had wondered about your interest in Number Seven.”

“I bet.” Terminal gargled, greedily accepting the water Pogo pushed against his lips. He waved him away when he had enough. “I knew your house would contain significant sources of power, what with all those super powered freaks you have running around under your roof. But even I hadn’t considered running into something quite so... _nuclear_.”

“You misread your instruments...”

Terminal cut across Reginald’s attempts at misdirection. “I did no such thing! You think I need technology to sense power?” He gasped, trying to push himself up on his elbows. With a sharp finger he jabbed the side of his head. “This monster, this _thing_ that eats me from within – it _senses_ it. I’ve felt the thrum from your property for years; long before I was aware of the disease. I wrote it off as a curiosity, but as I got sicker the pull grew. And now I _know_ – that girl, that girl you keep hidden away, is the only thing in this city, in this _world_ , that I’ve encountered which has the energy to sponge this disease from me. And no prison you build will keep her from me, and no prison you keep her _in_ will protect her.”

“Well,” Reginald said, with a careful tone of disinterest, “you are not going anywhere in a hurry. Not in your condition. Not without your suit. Not from this cage I have designed to keep you.”

“Her power will only grow with time and experience. Soon I will feel her from here, I know it. And who knows, maybe by that point I won’t need a suit to feed from it.”

“Your disease has clearly corrupted your mind. I will tell the Commissioner that your mad ravings are nothing to be taken seriously. We will focus our investigations into your crimes from here on out on the technology you have built, rather than your testimonies. While you are left here to rot.”

“You’re a cold bastard Reginald Hargreeves.” Terminal spat. “You have the power at your fingertips to save a dying man and you won’t lift a finger...”

“I do not see a dying man before me, Dr Terminal. I see a murderer.” Reginald concluded.

The room resounded with a heavy knock from the warden at the door. He paused for a moment, allowing them time to conclude their conversation before pulling open the exit and beckoning them out.

“All right, that’s enough. You’ve had your time.” Mr Phillips said, raising his voice over the attempts of Dr Terminal to speak.

He hadn’t much luck; once again he descended into hacking coughs.

“Good day, Dr Terminal.” Sir Reginald said, leaving without protest. He swept past the warden and towards their waiting car, with little mind to Pogo’s significantly shorter legs which struggled to keep pace.

He only spoke once they were driving away, and the divider between them and Abhijat was drawn.

“We will need to double Number Seven’s pill intake. I also want the plans for the Academy on my desk for tomorrow, our defences need strengthening.”

“Sir Reginald,” Pogo started wearily, “there is no reason to believe that Number Seven’s dosage is insufficient. She has not demonstrated any extraordinary abilities in _years_ , and she continues to act unequivocally under your authority. Furthermore, we have no way to know how an increased dosage would affect her constitution. We could end up doing more harm than good.”

“You will begin conducting research to determine the best way to increase her dosage, but it will need to be done. The sooner the better.” Reginald said with finality. “Dr Terminal might be a raving madman, but he has been the first to successfully permeate our defences and I see no reason to encourage him to attempt an attack on us again.”

“The institution is virtually impregnable, Sir Reginald.” Pogo pointed out. “Your designs have made it Hotel Oblivion of the most heavily fortified buildings in the world. No one can escape from there.”

“Engineers also thought the Titanic was unsinkable, Pogo. Unlike them, I intend to leave nothing to chance. I have made a note of your objections, however.”

“Yes, Sir Reginald.” Pogo said, biting back a sigh.

For the rest of the drive he considered Number Seven.

Yet another failure to add to his list.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompted by SilverCoins: "I want to see a conversation with Hargreaves and Terminal. I know Hargreaves isn’t everyone’s favourite but it would be interesting getting his perspective on things like how he views Vanya."   
> See - I do listen to you all...sometimes XD And Hargreeves is no one's favourite, which is why the only way I could do this was to write from Pogo's POV. 
> 
> Can we all just appreciate for a minute before I go on that my first story in this series, Experiment 5068, has reached over 10,000 hits on AO3 and 7,000 on ff.net which is ace. It's now my second most read story, although it has quite a way to go before it knocks my most popular from its spot. That one has a combined 354,662 views, so dedicated readers though you are you don't quite top the Lucifer fandom. But I do just want to say thank you to all of you dedicated readers who have stuck with this story for the past eight months, leaving kudos and writing heartwarming comments. You're all the best <3
> 
> And now to end on a slightly sad note: I'm doing NaNoWriMo next month (I know, why do I keep doing it to myself!). So this series likely won't be updated until December unless I somehow manage to get ahead of my word target. But if you're looking for any of my other TUA works, check out my 'Science for Geniuses, Love for Dummies' series. It's tagged Five/Vanya but the second story (a power swap) is pretty neutral. And I aim to finish it this month before I break for NaNo.  
> Thanks again you beautiful geniuses. Have a good weekend!


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